Muggle Studies
by museme87
Summary: As the Voldemort War rages outside the castle, long standing prejudices begin to seep their way into Hogwarts. James/Lily, background Remus/Sirius   Full summary with warnings within
1. Soft Options

**Summary:** As the Voldemort War rages outside the castle, long standing prejudices begin to seep their way into Hogwarts. For a Muggle-born student, everyday life has become significantly more challenging as Lily Evans knows too well. And her new partnership with one James Potter isn't exactly making things easier, especially when she discovers he isn't quite the arrogant toerag she once thought he was.

**Warnings:** dark themes (racism, hazing, slight non-con), sexual situations

* * *

**I. Soft Options**

Something was different about Hogwarts this year. Not long after she sat for the start of term feast, Lily realized that these changes had happened. People were absent, people like her—Muggle-borns. Some had elected not to return—she'd received a letter from her friend, Margaret Birkett, saying as much—but others, she knew, hadn't been so fortunate. There'd been a number of deaths over the summer holidays, many of them Muggles and even more of them wizards and witches hailing from Muggle families. Despite the urge to do to otherwise for her own sake, Lily couldn't ignore those names in the _Prophet_, couldn't help but wonder if someone wouldn't be reading her own name in there one day.

While her peers were eagerly greeting one another as the feast drew to a close, Lily took the opportunity to slip up to Gryffindor Tower fairly unnoticed. Her stomach was queasy, making dinner nearly painful. She'd managed to eat a bit of mash and roast lamb, but for the most part she nursed a glass of water. Jane Doyle, her long time roommate and confidant, had taken notice but hadn't bothered to ask her what was wrong, for which Lily was grateful. She hadn't wanted to have to explain that a Death Eater attack took place not a week before September 1st in the town neighboring her own.

When she reached the Sixth Year Gryffindor Girls dormitory, it pleased Lily to see that none of her roommates were in. Her things lay neatly by her bed—her trunk at the foot, her cloak hanging on a post, and her cat, Diana, sleeping soundly on her pillow. Unpacking seemed like such a daunting task, so she decided to take care of it after a restful night's sleep.

Taking out the bare necessities, she slipped out of her uniform, discarding it in a heap at her feet, and put on her yellow pajamas. A wave of tiredness washed over her. Lily glanced at the clock on the wall—8:51, hardly a suitable bedtime for a sixteen year old girl. It had been a trying day though, more so than usual due to all the rushing about at the station platform, the long meetings on the Express, and that arrogant toe-rag James Potter. If someone told her she could be rid of him tomorrow, it still wouldn't be soon enough.

Lily slid in to bed, much to Diana's annoyance, and cast _Accio_ on a few objects that rested at the top of her trunk. Two were photographs—Muggle photographs that marked her as different. One contained a picture of herself with her parents and Petunia taken at her grandmother's house the previous year. The other captured her and a young man with tidy, sandy blonde hair standing on the beach.

The young man was David, her boyfriend of just one month, who lived in her neighborhood. He was a perfectly normal boy, so perfectly normal, in fact, that he'd received the Petunia Evans seal of approval.

"And who knows, perhaps some of his normalcy will be able to fix _you_," Petunia had said with such sisterly affection the day she'd discovered Lily was seeing him.

It was as if she were broken, or diseased, or less than human in Petunia's eyes, and it angered Lily on levels that she struggled to understand. Then again, that frustration hadn't gone away with one long train ride to Hogwarts like she had thought it might; she didn't miss the stares or sneers or curses whispered under the breathes of some of her peers. She was "the other" at Hogwarts too.

She hated the thought of pitying herself and hated even more the idea of people thinking she pitied herself. It just frustrated her. Because of war, she had been made an outcast in a world that she was supposed to finally fit in. Lily could never be fully Muggle nor could she be fully Witch. So, she was left to straddle a dangerous line between the two.

Just as Lily opened the third object that she had levitated from her trunk—her N.E.W.T. Charms text—she noticed an owl flying through the window and landing on her bedside table. The owl was not unfamiliar to her; she'd been well acquainted with Athene since fourth year when the Toe-rag started sending professions of love via his Boreal Owl. Unlike her and Potter, Lily and Athene got along perfectly and seemed to share a mutual exasperation for that arrogant berk.

"Have a nice summer, Athene?"

The owl hooted and stuck out her leg where a bit of parchment had been tied. Lily had never rejected a letter from the bird; she was only doing her duty, after all. Potter's first letter to her this school year consisted of nothing more than: _Hogsmeade?_

Lily crawled across her bed to her trunk to retrieve her quill and ink pot, just as Jane and one of their other roommates, Annalise Crouch, walked in. Lily was a bit disappointed to find that Annalise was still as perfect as she had ever been, what with her blemish-free skin and perfect shampoo commercial hair. It unnerved her how someone could be so beautiful and so terribly dimwitted at the same time.

"Where's Mary?" Lily asked, finally locating the items in her trunk and setting herself back against her pillows.

"Up re-christening the Astronomy Tower with Jack," Jane explained. "What's that you got there?"

Lily held up the letter. "Three guesses."

Jane craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Athene. "Already?"

"Afraid so. Though he's taken a more minimalist approach this year."

"Good because he sure as hell was no Longfellow. Lupin must have been in on that one; there is no way Potter could have made all those historical allusions on his own," Jane said.

Lily remembered the poem as if she'd received it yesterday. It was lengthy and very much vomit- inducing in its professions. Potter had a certain skill for writing, she would admit; it just required a good deal of time sifting through the rubbish to see it. And he wasn't daft by any means that was for certain. Potter was, in fact, probably rather well read, and she doubted he would have needed Remus' help to write what he'd written.

"You should give him more credit. He's brilliant. He just doesn't use his intelligence for anything worthwhile," Lily countered.

Annalise nearly did a double take. "Did you catch fever over the summer and that scrambled your brains? Do you fancy James now? Because if you do, I need to owl everyone I've ever known right this minute."

"Me and Potter? Don't make me gag. All I'm saying is that he does idiotic things, but he's no idiot. There's a difference."

Annalise seemed perfectly content to leave things at that, albeit slightly disappointed to be fresh out of gossip. Jane said no more either, giving Lily the opportunity to pen her reply to Potter. She'd decided firmly on: _Not even if you put me under the Imperius_, followed promptly by a heart and smiley face. Pleased, she fastened her reply to Athene's leg and the owl flew off.

"So," Annalise began, sitting on her bed, "Black was checking me out at dinner tonight. I'm pretty sure I've got a chance with him this year, witches."

Lily resisted a snort. Annalise only had a chance with Black if she were about three inches taller, had a prick, and was named Remus Lupin. That relationship had been kept under lock and key for about a year now, but Lily had been privy to it because of her friendship with Remus. She was happy for the pair in all honesty, though she wasn't sure what Remus saw in him.

"Listen, ladies, I don't mean to be a downer, but I heard Mary say something about Wendy Millege," Jane said, sobering the mood considerably. "You know, that little Hufflepuff…"

The little Hufflepuff who was reported missing two weeks ago; yes, Lily knew well who she was referring to. She'd given Wendy a bit of Charms tutoring the year before. Wendy was Muggle-born, and apparently her parents had had a nasty run with the Lestranges at Diagon Alley. She had disappeared without a trace, not even so much as a hair ribbon left behind. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened to her.

"Yeah, we know," Annalise said, her perky mood suddenly quashed.

"Mary's father—he works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—well, he told her that they've found a body."

Annalise clutched her hand at her chest. "Bless Merlin."

"It was discovered in pieces…"

Lily brought her hand to her mouth, resisting the urge to lose the small amount of dinner she'd managed to eat. So just killing twelve-year-olds wasn't enough for those people who called themselves Death Eaters? They now had to defile their victims as well? What sort of twisted world was she living in?

"I didn't mean to give you nightmares or anything, but I just thought you should know, especially you, Lily, since you knew her well," Jane added softly.

Nodding her thanks, Lily slipped down into bed. She'd been tired before, but she wondered if sleep would ever come to her now. Her dreams _would_ be plagued by nightmares, by bits and pieces of a bright little girl who didn't deserve what had happened to her. And it all came down to her blood? Lily found herself bewildered by the idea.

* * *

As she suspected, sleep hadn't come easily to her the previous night and left her exhausted all morning. As it happened, however, her dreams weren't about Wendy Millege—but about herself being hunted down by Death Eaters. She'd woken up with a shout at 5 o'clock, startling the other girls. As she wasn't able to get back to sleep, she went for a jog on the grounds before breakfast.

Despite seeing some of her favorite dishes before her at breakfast and lunch, Lily's appetite had disappeared entirely. From across the table, Annalise oh-so-tactfully asked her if she'd developed an eating disorder over the summer. That was when Lily excused herself and headed towards Muggle Studies.

No one understood why she signed up for Muggle Studies; after all, she was a Muggle-born and surely would already know everything there was to be taught. It wasn't a popular class by any means. There were no exciting charms to be learned or complex transfigurations to be performed. And lately, enrollment had dwindled even further due to the fact that taking Muggle Studies would mark a person as a Muggle sympathizer. If she were the only person in the class, she wouldn't be surprised.

Lily had taken Muggle Studies for one simple reason—she wanted to understand why some wizards hated her kind. She hadn't gotten anti-Muggle propaganda in the class of course, but it had provided an invaluable insight over the past few years regarding wizarding opinion towards people like her and her family.

She hoped that in N.E.W.T. Muggle Studies they would discuss the current war and the source of all the contention now that the students were old enough to speak about those kinds of things in full. Lily prayed to God that her own theory would be easily be disproven, that people weren't killing simply out of hate. Surely there had to be a _real_ reason.

Of course, a hundred possibilities for the hate came to mind every time she stopped to consider them. All of which left her unbearably frustrated after a moment of deliberation. Her reasons were often filled with illogical explanations, biased principles, and were simply fundamentally weak. What was her only alternative though? Believe that she was hated only because of the blood in her veins? Believe that wizards didn't care about who she was as a person or what she could do as a witch? No, she'd much rather continue searching blindly for the excuse that best fit this burning question in her mind.

Walking into the classroom and sitting down, Lily was happy to see a few other familiar faces—Ian Callaghan, Divyana Ghazali, and Kate Fisher. All of them had started Muggle Studies with her in third year and all of them came from Muggle or mixed families. She wasn't surprised that there were no pure-bloods among them.

"Evans."

The voice was deep and smooth. And _obnoxious_, Lily realized a second later when her brain was able to fully process it. She had spoken too soon. When she looked up, she found the Toe-rag standing in front of the chair next to her, setting his things down.

"Hope you don't mind if I sit next to you," he said with a wink.

Lily had long since come to realize that she never had a choice when it came to James Potter. He would do as _he_ wanted and everyone else be damned. _Of course_ she minded that he sat next to her; the mere idea of it was disastrous. But Potter wouldn't care, so she didn't even bother wasting her breath in protest. After six years of bickering back and forth with him, she had learned to pick her battles.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What does it look like?"

"So why are you taking Muggle Studies then? You're always joined at Black's hip, and I know for a fact that he has Divination right now since I talked to Remus this morning."

"Well, I _was_ going to take Divination, but apparently Professor Brahe had other ideas. Something about a couple of pranks that we pulled on her last year, and how we're not good for each other. Whatever that means. So, McGonagall pulled me aside and said that I had to either take Arithmancy or Muggle Studies as my other subject this year."

"And you chose Muggle Studies because you knew I've been taking the class since third year," she concluded.

"Actually, I had no idea that you were going to be in this class. That's just an added bonus," he answered, slipping her a smooth smile. "I took Muggle Studies because my only other alternative was Arithmancy, and who in their right minds wouldn't make the same choice?"

"Severus is taking Arithmancy."

"Yeah, well he would, wouldn't he?" James sneered. "Stupid git. Some of us have social lives and Quidditch to attend to. Only thing he has is his little potions book and his hand to keep him com—"

Lily immediately drew her wand and directed towards James' crotch, her patience wearing significantly thin. "Another word, Potter, and I'll permanently remove your bits."

"Don't know about removing them, love, but I do know something that you cou—"

"Enough!" she shrieked, drawing the attention of the rest of the class.

Lily was absolutely _seething_. Half the girls in this damn school thought of this…_bastard_ as boyfriend material? What idiots. Complete fools. And there he was smirking at her as if he was proud of the fact that he made her hot. No, not hot. God, James Potter would never make her hot. He was proud that he could ruffle her feathers. Yes, that was it. That was a far better—_truer_—way of putting it.

She glared at him. "Don't talk to me."

"I wasn't the one shouting, making a spectacle of myself," he whispered.

Lily turned in her seat properly and looked straight ahead, deciding that it was far better if she just ignore him until class started. Potter, however, began scribbling things on his parchment such as "James and Lily Potter" and "Lily loves James" as well as a few more lewd things that made Lily want to gag.

"I can't believe you think acting out and being a complete idiot is going to make me like you," she muttered.

"Stop being so uptight, Evans," he whispered back.

Anger licked her insides upon hearing that word. _Uptight_? It wasn't as if she wanted to be. She would rather be a carefree sixteen year old girl who hung out with her friends and flirted with cute boys. She wanted go to the Muggle cinema or shopping mall without having to worry whether that would be the day the Death Eaters would decide to stage another attack and bring the building, along with everyone in it, crashing down. Not that perfect, pure-blood James Potter would ever understand what it was like to be living in constant fear for his and his family's life. No, he would ever have a reason to be uptight.

But she couldn't very well explain all of that to him. She could barely tolerate him, and it infuriated her even more to have him, Potter, who knew nothing about her, hit upon something so delicate. It would be better to lie than give him the satisfaction of knowing what that word did to her.

"I am _not_ uptight."

"All I'm saying is that there are plenty of other birds who would die to go on a Hogsmeade date with yours truly."

"'Plenty of other birds' are apparently brain dead."

"What will it hurt? Come on, Lily. Go with me on the first Hogsmeade trip. I'll make it worth your while," he said, slipping his hand across the table to take hers.

She slapped it away before he had the chance to connect. "I'm not interested in you making it _worth my while_—whatever sort of innuendo that's supposed to be. In fact, I'm not interested in you at all. And I never will be. _Ever_."

Just as Potter was about to open his mouth to reply, the professor walked into the room. Unless Professor Jensen got into a horrible Polyjuice accident, it seemed like they would have a new instructor this year. This did not disappoint Lily, as she never particularly cared for the former professor's handling of the class. You can only listen to so many lectures on the wonders of "eckeltricity" before you want to scratch your eyes out with a quill.

"Good afternoon, class! I'm Professor Dirwint, and I'll be filling in for Professor Jensen this year."

He spoke for some time about expectations and things that Lily was only paying half attention to. Meanwhile she tried her best to ignore Potter's further parchment scribblings, which presently included crude drawings. If she didn't know better, she would guess that he was an eight year old child who had drunk an Aging Potion.

"I think you will find that my teaching methods are a little different from Professor Jensen's," Professor Dirwint continued. "I don't believe that writing essays that simply require you to regurgitate information is at all productive. In fact, I dare say it's a great disservice to you.

"That is why we will be working on a yearlong project in pairs, in which you will be writing me several personal reflection papers on a topic that is of your choosing. It is my fondest hope that you will be able to learn more about Muggle life through this project and become more well-rounded individuals because of it. Presently, I will be putting you into groups and you will be able to discuss with your partner what you would like to work on for the year. You can then set up an appointment to see me to approve your project, and we will discuss your topic further."

While she waited for her name to be called and her partner announced, Lily began to think of what might be a suitable topic for her project. There were the obvious choices, but writing reflections about those sorts of things might become too personal. Putting all of her fears and insecurities to parchment might make them far realer than she wanted.

She'd always been interested in the ways Wizards incorporated Muggle things into their lives. Then again, exploring the way in which the Ministry of Magic fit in with the Muggle Ministry might also provide for an interesting project, especially given the state of the Wizarding world. More importantly, those two topics were safe.

"Miss Evans?"

Lily returned her attention to the professor when her name was called. "Sir."

"You'll be working with Mister Potter. You're my only Gryffindors, and I think that given your diverse backgrounds, you'll be able to come up with some very interesting perspectives on Muggle and Wizard relations."

Her blood ran cold in her veins and an uneasiness formed in her stomach. She and Potter—partners? She and Potter, partners _for a year_. But partnership required cooperation. She didn't think that she was physically capable of cooperating with him. She didn't think she was physically capable of doing _anything_ with him.

Turning towards Potter, Lily felt as if she were confronting her own death sentence. He, however, couldn't have looked more pleased and blew her a kiss. A sudden urge strangle the life right out of him seized her.

After the final set of partners were called out, the professor dismissed the class, reminding them to make an appointment to see him soon. Lily quickly gathered up her things in hopes of avoiding having to speak to Potter; however, he was already blocking her path to the aisle when she stood to leave.

"Out of my way."

"Why are you so upset about this, Evans? It's just a stupid project. Am I really that insufferable?" he asked, and Lily thought for a moment that he might be genuinely concerned about her answer.

She wanted to reply: _Yes, you are that insufferable, and you have this way of knowing exactly how to get under my skin and mess me up inside_.

She couldn't very well do that though. It was blatantly hurtful, and while Potter had gone out of his way to annoy the hell out of her (intentionally or otherwise) for the past six years, he'd never really said anything that he knew would really upset her. It would be prudent of her to return the favor.

"I have nothing against you. We just can't work together. We'll end up killing each other or something," she said, hoping that would placate him.

"Well we're going to have to resist the urge then. You heard Dirwint: no switching partners."

The moment that Lily thought her only saving grace would be to change partners, Dirwint had added in that little caveat. As much as she hated the thought of telling Potter that he was right, he _was_ right. They were stuck with each other and would have to learn how to get along.

"We're going to have to set some rules in place, you know that, right?" she asked wearily.

"Rules?"

"Yes, you know those things that place restrictions on people for their own safety and benefit? The things that you have a mind to completely disregard? Rules?"

"You're being unreasonable. I'm not a child."

"Rule number one," she began, shoving past him and heading for the corridor, "you may not ask me out. You may not ask anyone to ask me out for you. You may not even _think_ about asking me out. If you do, you forfeit your right to your bollocks for a week."

He groaned behind her. "You know if you gave me a chance, you might actually fancy me."

"Look," she said sternly, facing him, "I don't fancy you, and I'm never going to fancy you, Potter. Some girls think you're the greatest thing to ever grace this planet, but I'm not one of them. You're not my type. And I'd really appreciate it if you backed off because I'm seeing someone right now."

He looked momentarily dumbfounded, and silencing James Potter was no easy task. He must have been taking into consideration what she said for once. Maybe they _could_ get along for the sake of the project. It was, at the very least, progress.

"You're seeing someone?"

Lily threw her arms up in defeat. So much for _that_ theory. She continued to walk briskly down the corridor and could hear Potter's heavy footsteps behind her. Lily was _not_ going to talk to him any further on the matter.

"Who are you seeing, Evans?"

"No one you know," she spat.

"A Muggle then?" he said, surprised.

_That_ did halt her progress, that horrid tone in his voice. "Yes, a _Muggle_. I'm sure that really pisses you off, doesn't it, you entitled berk? A _Muggle_ dating your precious Lily Evans. You, James Potter, pure-blood big-man-at-Hogwarts, denied by a sweet _Muggle_ boy who goes to public school and works at a grocery."

Potter was startled and probably would have been less so if she'd just slapped him across the face. _This_ was why she couldn't stand him. One comment, one word, a simple change in intonation of his voice, and she had been reduced to shouting her insecurities to him and anyone else in listening distance.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said, soberly. "I think you must have misunderstood. I didn't mean it in any certain way. I just…I was surprised. Not because he was a Muggle but because it's long distance. It would just be easier—"

"_Nothing_ is easy, Potter. Not in these times," she replied, her voice quiet and even. "Let's just drop it."

"Right," he said, his own voice solemn. "Well I had an idea for our project topic, if you want to hear it."

They resumed walking, Lily trying to calm herself after her earlier explosion. If Potter was willing to let things go so easily _and_ be productive all at the same time, she shouldn't dismiss the opportunity no matter how badly she wanted to be free of him.

"What is it?"

"Electricity. Brilliant, eh? Pete's cousin did a project on electricity once and she got the top mark in the class."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That was with Jenson, Potter."

"Yeah, well Muggle Studies professors all the same, aren't they? They go completely mental over electricity. Trust me, Evans. Electricity."

* * *

"Electricity?" Professor Dirwint said with a chuckle. "Dear boy, you'll never be able to get a whole project out of that topic."

Lily looked at Potter smugly, as if to tell him that she had known it was a horrible idea all along, which she had. Unfortunately Potter was so persistent about electricity that they hadn't come up with a back-up topic, despite her insistence.

"Well, Professor, do you have any suggestions for us?" Lily asked.

"I must admit that when I paired the two of you up, I was hoping that you might decide on your own to do a broad comparison of the similarities and differences between Wizarding culture and Muggle culture. It seems the most logical, given that Mister Potter comes from a long line of pure-blood wizards and you, Miss Evans, are from a Muggle family. I think it would lend itself especially well to your reflection essays."

Why hadn't she thought of that before? No doubt the differences between how she and Potter were raised led to some of their differences. Who knew, perhaps being an arrogant, bullying toerag was just something pure-blood wizards inherited genetically. Black certainly suffered from it as well.

"That sounds like a very interesting topic, Professor. Don't you think, Potter?"

She looked at him warningly, all but telling him that if he didn't agree she'd make good on the "hex your bits of permanently" threat from days ago. Potter, still looking defeated from Dirwint's disapproval of his topic, nodded complacently.

"Sounds brilliant," he said, his lack of enthusiasm painfully apparent.

"Well, I think that settles it then," Dirwint said. "Good luck to you both, and if you need any help or a push in the right direction, don't hesitate to come see me here or after class."


	2. Matters of Pride and Prejudice

**II. Matters of Pride and Prejudice**

"—and before you all get overly excited about the weekend, remember that you have 10 inches on Substantive Charms due on Tuesday. I noticed many of you struggling with it during your O.W.L.S. last year, so we ought to refresh ourselves," Professor Flitwick explained before dismissing the sixth years.

Lily was a bit put out about the Substantive Charms essay. She'd been able to do that particular charm since fourth year and after having gone over Spell Net Theory, was very familiar with the magical foundations of such a charm. She feared that this day would come—the day when she found Charms class boring. Once upon a time it had been thrilling, each class bringing a challenge her way, but that was no longer the case.

As she slowly began putting her things away, the students around her already shuffling to leave, Professor Flitwick approached her. She smiled.

"Professor?"

"I was wondering, Miss Evans, if I might have a word."

"Of course, sir."

She wondered if she'd done something wrong or if her homework had been noticeably lackluster. She'd been in a rush to do it, but Lily was certain that her answers were at least correct. And if it wasn't that, she had no idea what he would want to speak with her about.

"I've been noticing that your interest in class has waned as of late."

"Oh no, sir, not at all," she said, hopefully with some conviction.

"No need to spare my feelings, my dear."

Lily blushed. "Maybe a little."

"As I suspected. And am I also correct in thinking that you're not feeling sufficiently challenged?"

"I'm very familiar with all the charms we're scheduled to learn this year," she replied, her cheeks feeling even warmer.

Professor Flitwick nodded. "No doubt you know them more thoroughly than anyone else in your year, Miss Evans. The reason I've asked is that, after discussing this with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, I thought it might be beneficial for you to have some one-on-one instruction. It's not a common occurrence, of course, but not unheard of. We've found that some of our students over the years have a special aptitude in certain fields of magical study that should be cultivated."

Lily couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her, study with Flitwick? She knew that she had a particular affinity for Charms work, but she would have never suspected it warranted special instruction.

"Sir, I would be delighted. Charms has always been my favorite, and well…"

"Say no more, my dear!"

The professor cast _Accio_ on two books that sat on his desk. They levitated right into her hands, and Lily could tell just how old they must have been by looking at them. They were likely filled with ancient charms the likes of which she had never seen or even dreamed of.

"You can take a look at those, though do practice with care. There isn't anything particularly dangerous in them, but you'll find that it requires a different level of magic than what our normal course work demands. We can arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience. A week from today, perhaps?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but Thursdays are my Muggle Studies group meetings."

Or, Thursday evening _should_ have been her Muggle Studies group meetings. However, Potter had spent the better part of a month canceling their sessions or, on one occasion, bringing Sirius along, which had been nothing short of disastrous. She really shouldn't ask a professor to work around her schedule, but Flitwick didn't seem to mind.

"Wednesdays then?"

"That works wonderfully. Thank you so much, Professor."

After she'd finished packing her things, Lily rushed off to tell Jane all about her luck. She wouldn't dare say anything to anyone else; no, she knew that they'd say: _Surprised you're good at any magic at all, what with all that Muggle blood polluting your veins_. Lily hated how many of her peers dismissed her proficiencies so easily. Perhaps she hated it even more than when they blamed her poor marks on her Muggle birth. She would be damned before she started letting those prejudices get to her now though, not today.

* * *

At one of the tables in the library, Lily sat with her Muggle Studies book open before her. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her watch every few seconds and frowned. It was the end of September, the deadline to their first reflection essay quickly approaching, and Potter had the nerve to be late. She wondered if he would even bother to grace her with his presence at all.

Just as she was about to close her text and seek Potter out—really, they _had_ to get this reflection essay done—the library doors opened and he appeared. Potter looked winded and maybe even a little disheveled. _Of course_. He was probably in a broom cupboard somewhere with some girl and forgot all about her. She should have known.

"Sorry I'm late," he said breathlessly, taking the seat across from her.

"Snogging some girl and lost track of time?"

Really there was no sense in mincing words at this point. Her anger had already got the better of her, and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve a thorough tongue lashing.

"No, it was Sirius. He and Reg got into a fight, and he needed me there, alright?"

Lily supposed that she could have held her tongue for a few moments now that she'd discovered the reason behind his tardiness. She would give the pass to Potter just because she knew how bad those arguments between the brothers were, and that without someone there to calm Black down afterwards, things often went disastrously.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, bit hacked off still."

Lily noticed the bruise blooming on Potter's jaw and a smudge of what looked to be blood on his shirt collar. That, and when he took out his quill and parchment, he saw that his knuckles were broke open. Wait a second, he wasn't…

"You weren't comforting him. You helped him in a fist fight!" she accused, incredulously.

"Did you really think that I show up to their arguments for moral support and to hug Sirius after it's all said and done? Perhaps let him weep a bit on my shoulder?" Potter scoffed. "Two-against-one or otherwise, Reg deserves what he has coming."

Alright, that was a bit absurd of her to think; she would give him that—not that it justified the fighting or his tardiness. Sighing, Lily opted to end the brewing argument where it was rather than let it get out of hand. Potter was already running on too much adrenaline, and if she pissed him off, he was likely to leave the library and taking any chance they had of passing Muggle Studies with him.

As a sort of peace offering, she took her wand out, closing up the cuts on his knuckles and easing the bruising on his jaw. He stared at her a moment, as if to ask her what had gotten into her. Lily shrugged.

"Right. Well then, where do we start?" he asked, relieved.

"I've no idea, to be honest."

She'd spent the better part of the last month just trying to _get_ him to a meeting. What they would decide to talk about hadn't really been at the forefront of her mind, which in retrospect was really foolish of her.

"Did Dirwint say what our ruddy essays are supposed to be about anyway?" he asked, put out.

Lily glared. "Why are you taking this class again?"

"Because I _have_ to."

Oh, right. Well, she would just have to forgive him for his foul mood then. He didn't want to be in the class anymore than she wanted to be his project partner, it seemed. Might as well buck up and figure something out.

"How about we go with the basics? He never said we couldn't talk about the differences between growing up as a Muggle and growing up as a wizard."

Potter slipped her a smooth smile. "Lily, my heart, you're brilliant. It won't take but an hour to throw that together."

"If we ever get started with our discussion. It'll be difficult to write the essays otherwise."

"Right then," he said, stretching. "What would you like to know about me?"

"Just start from the beginning and tell me anything that comes to mind."

"Well, I'm an only child. Mum and Dad tried for years, had a few miscarriages I think, but they only managed me. Um…I was born at home—"

"Wait," she said, jotting that down on a bit of parchment. "That's a difference."

"How do Muggles have babies then?"

"Home births aren't unheard of, but most women go to a hospital."

"A hospital?" he asked, incredulously. "But women have been giving birth on their own for centuries. Why do they need a hospital?"

Lily rolled her eyes. He made it sound as if childbirth were nothing more complex than making a sandwich. The poor woman who pulled the short straw and ended up married to him could expect more compassion from the Devil himself than James Potter, at least as far as child birth was concerned. What a totally rubbish father he would make.

"You forget, Potter, that we're not blessed with magic. We can't mix potions for the pains or cast warning charms to go off if there are complications. And should anything happen, we can't Apparate right to St. Mungo's."

"That's absurd. You can't Apparate when you're pregnant."

Resisting the urge to groan, Lily wondered if he'd even understood the point she was trying to make about the differences in potential dangers. She narrowed her eyes to show her displeasure with his comment.

"What? You _can't_."

"Alright, obviously we need to change subjects. This isn't working. The only thing we're accomplishing is bickering."

For a few moments, they sat in silence. Lily wasn't sure what to suggest, what topic would be safe enough for them to avoid arguing. Glancing across the table, she saw Potter looking rather thoughtful himself. Then his eyes met hers, and she quickly diverted her own. She felt a very strange sensation just then, staring into his eyes.

"Tell me about the war, Lily. I want to know what it's like for you."

She froze in place; someone might as well have cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on her. How in the bloody hell did he do that? Of all the things to talk about, he had to pick, almost intuitively, the one thing that she didn't want to talk to _anyone_ about, not even her closest friends. Was this some sort of joke? Was he looking to take the piss out? Because it wasn't a funny matter. It was serious, and that was a concept that James Potter struggled with.

"I'm not asking to be a berk. I'm asking because I sincerely want to know," he said, before she had the chance to refute the suggestion. "I see Muggle-borns around school. I'm friends with them, but I can't begin to imagine what it must be like."

Lily dared to look him in the eyes again. He _was_ being earnest; she could tell. But that didn't change the fact that it was an extremely sensitive topic, one that, at times, had sent her into tears. She couldn't risk letting him see her so affected by something. Lily didn't really _know_ him after all.

"I don't think this is an appropriate conversation."

"But it _is_. _That_ is why we need projects like this. We're never going to learn to live together if we don't understand one another, am I right?"

"I understand where you're coming from, I really do. I just _can't_."

For a moment, she thought he was going to leave things. His silence implied as much. But then he shook his head slowly in reflection and met her eyes once more.

"It's not right—what's happening. They're killing innocents, and they—the victims—_are_ innocent. I don't buy into this dirty blood propaganda, even though you might find that hard to believe—"

"I don't," she interjected. "I mean, why would I think that?"

"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? You don't like me, and you always expect the worst from me."

She considered his words. It probably seemed like that to most people, and he _did_ irk her. That didn't necessarily mean that she hated him though. When he was being mature, as he was being right then, well, he was quite _tolerable_. In fact, it was enlightening to see this passionate side of Potter that shared the same views that she did. It made her question her perpetual bitterness towards him.

"I don't expect the worst from you, even though you have a tendency towards disappointing others and breaking the rules. And sometimes you can even be a little bit…bearable," she said softly.

Potter smiled at her, and for the first time, Lily realized that as far as smiles went, his was above average. He seemed amused by her little confession, and she guessed it was funny that being called "bearable" by someone could actually be a compliment.

"I know there are a lot of pure-bloods out there who harbor hatred towards Muggles and Muggle-borns, and it's really easy to just lump us altogether. But, Lily, you should know that I don't carry those ideologies. I know I can be a prat sometimes, but understand at least this much—I don't do it in hate."

Nodding, Lily began to wonder if she shouldn't share a small something with him since he'd gone out of his way to ease her mind. Not that she'd ever thought that James Potter hated her kind, but the reassurance that he wouldn't stand for such a thing was very comforting. And while he was often thought to be a liar, a schemer, and an all-round mischief maker, Lily knew that he wouldn't lie about something so delicate. Even so, the thought of telling him something about the war from her perspective didn't set well with her. No, she couldn't, or at least not yet.

"Thank you. It means a lot, Potter. Really it does. And maybe sometime later in the year we can discuss it, but I'd rather not right now."

"Understandable. So would you like to tell me a little more about yourself then? Obviously I'm rubbish at telling you about me."

For the greater part of an hour, Lily discussed what it was like growing up in a Muggle home, how her parents handled having a witch in the family, and also what it was like to have a sibling. Potter marveled at some of the things she'd told him, especially the tales about her accidental magic, and often added in something about his own childhood or how things were different for a child in the Wizarding world.

Their discussion was really fascinating, but what interested her even more was the fact that she and Potter could carry on an intellectual conversation. Lily found that he was well mannered, despite all evidence to the contrary, and that he was very easy to talk to.

When Potter brought their conversation to a close (claiming a Transfiguration essay as his excuse), Lily was almost disappointed. Naturally she blamed it on an interest in their discussion rather than Potter himself. And while she grappled for a reason why they should continue on, she found herself without one. They had all the information they needed for their essay.

"Want to walk back to the common room with me?" he asked.

"That would be lovely, thanks."

Potter even went so far as to offer to carry her things, but Lily didn't let him. There would be implications with that, she feared. Not to mention the fact that, if anyone saw them, she would be teased or given the cold shoulder even more so than usual. But, she supposed, there were worse things in life than being seen with James Potter carrying her books. Once upon a time she wouldn't have thought so, so coming to that conclusion quite surprised her.

"So tell me more about this sister of yours. Is Posey—"

"_Petunia_," she corrected.

He shrugged. "Is she as pretty as you are?"

Her cheeks flushed, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the question itself or because of the compliment it paid to her. Not that Potter hadn't called her pretty before, but it felt a little different this time. She hoped he hadn't noticed; the last thing she wanted was any advances made by him.

"Is that question at all appropriate?" she asked, praying to God that she wasn't blushing as much as she thought she was.

"Well I obviously don't have much of a chance with one Evans girl. Might as well see if I've a shot with the other," he said, punctuating it with a wink.

"You'd have a better chance with me, to be honest. Petunia…well, she finds pleasure in the mediocre things in life."

"I take it that you being a witch doesn't set well with her then?"

That was the understatement of the century. Petunia did everything in her power to stress the differences between herself and Lily and make sure it was known that the normal way of doing things was far superior to Lily's way. She belittled every attempt Lily made at trying to do things the "right" way, taking every opportunity to comment if Lily's hair wasn't properly plaited or if her cosmetics were too heavy. Her sister did all this knowing that Lily had learned how to do such things magically before she learned them the Muggle way. She had, after all, become a teenager in a school for witchcraft, which left her with a certain disadvantage when she had to go about things through "normal" means.

"Let's put it this way, Petunia didn't write to me my entire first two years at Hogwarts, and she only wrote to me in third year to inform me that she was moving into my bedroom."

Potter's wince was all the evidence that she needed to know that she'd got her point across. Pretty or not, apparently Potter wouldn't even consider pursuing someone who thought of him as abnormal. No doubt that would deflate his gigantic ego. On second thought, perhaps they _should_ meet. If anyone could make James Potter feel about an inch big, it would be her dear sister.

* * *

"I don't care that he sleeps with anything that moves, Mel. Have you seen Johnson in those Quidditch robes? It's not a wonder why all the girls want some time in the broom cupboard with him," Annalise said, chatting animatedly to one of their fellow Gryffindors at lunch, a few weeks after Lily's first Muggle Studies meeting with Potter.

Lily, meanwhile, was idly playing with the peas on her plate and skimming through the Charms text that Flitwick had lent her. She couldn't help but wonder if there hadn't been a charm placed on the book itself, as she struggled to stop reading it every time it was opened. The things that she'd begun to study were very advanced and took everything she knew to be put to use. It was a challenge and very exciting. And the results? Lily couldn't believe some of the things she'd been able to achieve after just a few lessons.

"Evans."

She looked up to find Potter and company pausing at her lunch table, Potter and Black dressed in their Quidditch robes—afternoon practice, she assumed. Noticing the way the fabric pulled tightly across their chests, Lily couldn't help but wonder if they'd shrunk their uniforms a bit to give the girls a better look at what they had to offer. And much to her dismay, Lily found herself doing just that—stealing a glance at Potter's toned chest. Why did it feel warm in the Great Hall all of a sudden?

"Looking fit there, Black," Annalise said. "I know of a cupboard that could use occupying."

Lily's eyes flitted over to Remus, who looked positively annoyed. Since Remus and Black's relationship was not well known even among their housemates, these sorts of harmless flirtations happened often. She knew that they bothered Remus, and she'd been told that Black had cut back on it for that reason. But Black was still Black (an attention seeking whore, in her personal opinion), and he sometimes went along with it.

"I'll go find us seats," Remus muttered, stalking off further up the table followed by Peter.

Black noticed Remus' blatant frustrations, and much to Lily's surprise, began to ignore Annalise completely. The unfortunate consequence was that he now turned to her.

"And Evans," Sirius said. "Looking particularly shaggable today. I like what you've done with your hair—very naughty school girl."

Lily's blood began to boil, and she quickly tore her hair out of the bunches she'd styled it in that morning. Anything that Black found appealing had to go. She hated him, and she hated the thought of him checking her out even more.

"Getting a little angry, are we?" He turned to Potter. "Evans looks a bit pent up, Prongs. Crouch knows of an empty broom cupboard. Why don't you escort her there and help her release some of that tension. What her Muggle boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him, eh?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, but what was worse was that Potter's laugh—the very one Lily had just begun to admire—joined his. So he thought Black's vulgar comment was funny, did he? And he had apparently shared with Black the fact that she had a boyfriend, as the only other person who knew was Jane and she would never betray her confidence. How could she have ever thought that stupid James Potter could ever be trusted with personal information?

Lily promptly jumped out of her seat and flick-swished her wand before Potter and Black ever stopped laughing. Well they certainly wouldn't be laughing the next time they went to the loo, and Black would be lucky to see the inside of a broom cupboard in the next week with that little hex.

"_This_ is exactly why I can't tolerate you, Potter."

She snatched her text into her arms and stormed from the table, not really realizing that Potter had stopped laughing. If she would have turned around, she would have seen him looking rather distressed, would have seen the frown on his lips and sadness in his eyes. But she hadn't turned around and she wouldn't turn around _ever_ for an arrogant toe-rag like James Potter.

* * *

Lily spent the better part of a week avoiding Potter after the lunchroom incident, making it a point to leave the room whenever he entered. They had accidently bumped into each other once while she was coming out of the loo, but she quickly dismissed him and threatened to hex him further if he followed her. It wasn't until Thursday of the following week that he cornered her outside while she was writing a love letter to David beneath her favorite tree.

"May I?" he asked softly, gesturing to the grass next to her.

"I'm not interested in whatever you have to say, so you might as well save your breath."

Potter sat regardless of her warning, taking mind not to sit too close. Lily had the sneaking suspicion that he knew she was liable to combust at the slightest irritation and wasn't going to risk incurring her wrath.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about the other day."

She glared at him. "It's not worth anything."

"What was it that upset you the most?"

She looked at him incredulously. Did he really not know? Boys were thick at times, she knew that much, but was he honestly that oblivious? Anger licked her insides.

"Ignoring the fact that you completely betrayed my confidence, did you hear the things Black was saying? Or were you too busy laughing to really consider it? You two treat girls like they're things to be thrown away whenever your interests are carried off on some other whim. And for some reason, they tolerate it. Well, I won't. I'm not like other girls. I have a little more respect for myself. And I will _never_ be your good time, Potter. "

There, that would show him. Perhaps it would even deflate his ego a bit—hearing that there was at least one girl who wouldn't be caught dead with him. And maybe Lily needed to hear herself say it too. As much as she'd loathed Potter in the past, he was sort of growing on her over the course of their meetings. Things that she'd never taken noticed of before—his eyes and smile, his elegant fingers wrapped around his quill, the smell of his cologne—were at the forefront of her thoughts during Muggle Studies discussions. Lily wouldn't allow herself to be caught up in the physical things, not when it meant that she could potentially come to fancy someone like Potter.

In response to her words, Lily expected an instant retaliation from him—some stupid comment or innuendo. However, he just sat there, wind ruffling his hair, and was silent. She wondered what he was thinking, wondered whether any of her words had sunk into that thick skull of his.

"I know you're not like other girls, Lily, and that's why I'd never ask you to be my fifteen minutes in a broom cupboard," he said finally.

"So what? Is this the part where you tell me you're in love with me?" she asked bitterly.

"No, I'm not in love with you. I don't know you well enough to feel that because you've never given me a fucking chance, Evans." Potter stood, fists clenched. "But I will say one thing: I _have_ learned more about you during our talks, and I've discovered that—when you're not being an utter _harpy_—you're really an incredible girl. And I _respect_ you. Not that it's _worth_ anything."

His words pierced her, so much so that she couldn't even call him back as he stormed away. He'd hurt her, so she'd hurt him back. Lily thought that it would make her feel better—after all, those sorts of comments always had before and he'd never taken them _this_ seriously back then. But she didn't feel better; she felt worse, in fact. Lily regretted ever saying that nothing he said could ever mean anything to her, mostly because it was a complete lie. Things that came out of Potter's mouth lately—those intelligent and heartfelt words—had mattered a lot to her.

She was an incredible girl? He respected her? What did that even mean? She would have dismissed them quickly last year as pretty compliments paid to her so that he could try to get into her knickers. But now? Maybe he didn't have an ulterior motive after all. When Lily considered all those times she'd been a complete _bitch_ to him as he praised her skill or appearance, she loathed herself.

What happened to those days when they were just Evans and Potter, with clear lines drawn and boundaries marked? The days when they wouldn't have thought provoking discussions and would instead bicker back and forth? This uncharted territory with him frightened her. What would it mean for her? For him? For _them_?


	3. The Pitch

**III. The Pitch**

Another week's worth of silence followed—a week that just months ago would have been considered heaven sent. The lack of communication hadn't been her doing. Rather, Lily had tried to seek Potter out. Potter, however, wouldn't have it. He went out of his way to avoid her, which puzzled her at first. That had always been _her_ job. After a day or two of being ignored, Lily bemoaned ever having evaded him. It was pure misery.

By this point she was painfully aware that she'd been wrong. Well, not _entirely_ wrong—he had deserved that lecture on treating girls horribly—but she could have found a better way to express her frustrations. Shouting had been childish, and Lily knew it.

What had been most upsetting was that, in her fury, she'd just wanted him to _understand_. He'd betrayed her confidence when he'd told Black that she had a Muggle boyfriend. And while it may not have seemed so serious to him, it was to Lily.

She was hated for being a Muggle-born, and Lily understood that that hate could manifest itself into something serious. She lived every day knowing she could be a target of the Death Eaters and their families. But David? He hadn't signed up for her baggage. In fact, he didn't even _know_ about that baggage. David thought that she was attending a boarding school in Scotland—no wizards or magic or potions, just an average, every day school. And if anything should happen to him because of something she'd said, Lily wouldn't be able to forgive herself. _That_ was the reason she'd been so angry.

But despite that breach of trust by Potter, she did need to fix things between the two of them. It hadn't been entirely his fault, and Lily wanted to explain that to him. The problem was that she couldn't corner him long enough to do it. In her desperation, she'd even tried sending him an owl, but that was promptly returned to her, seal intact. Lily needed help if she was ever going to get him to speak with her anytime in the near future, and so she sought out Remus after their weekly prefect meeting let out one afternoon.

"Remus, do you have a moment?" she called.

He halted his progress so that she could catch up, watching her with tired eyes. The full moon was almost upon them, which she'd nearly forgotten until just then. That would certainly explain his poor coloring and the bite that had been lingering in his words all day. Instantly, Lily wondered if she shouldn't wait to speak with him.

She shook her head. "Ah, never mind."

"Please, go on," he offered. "I may look like death, but I still have my wits about me for the next forty hours or so."

"It's nothing important," she replied, trying to sound believable. "Promise."

Remus appeared to be thoroughly unconvinced. "Since when has 'nothing important' left you in a fluster for a week? You think I wouldn't notice?"

Lily groaned. "What tipped you off?"

"Perhaps the fact that _I_ received better marks than _you_ in Potions yesterday."

"Oh, honestly, you're not _that_ bad." He looked at her pointedly. "Alright, you really _are_ that bad."

Remus nodded in agreement. It wasn't a secret that he'd blown up more cauldrons than everyone else in the class combined, though Peter was giving him a run for his Galleons for the title of "Worst Potion Brewer in Hogwarts' History". Why the two of them even took N.E.W.T. Potions she couldn't be sure. It probably had something to do with Potter and Black no doubt.

"So what did you want to talk about, Lily?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Lily hesitated for a moment. "It's about Potter. We sort of exchanged words last week."

"He mentioned as much."

"He did?" she said, surprised. "I mean…what did he say?"

"Half of it wasn't even coherent, to be honest. All that I could gather was that he was angry about something you said. I don't know, Lily. He's been in a mood all week."

"I'm not particularly proud of my part in that argument," Lily admitted, sheepishly. "And I haven't been able to get him alone long enough to apologize for what I said. He must be taking it really hard if he's still this upset over it, so I want to make things right."

"What you need to understand about James is that he's emotionally complex. Sometimes I have to wonder if he doesn't feel twice as strongly about things as normal people. Whatever you said to him probably triggered something else entirely, which you couldn't have known about, Lily. I've called him one of my best mates for six years now, and there are still things that I have yet to understand about him."

"How do you suggest I fix this?"

"Talk to him."

"I've been trying," she reminded.

"He's gone to the library at seven o'clock for the past few days. You might be able to find him there tonight."

Lily could have hugged him just then. Ever reliable Remus. He'd saved her arse time and time again since second year. It was really getting to the point where she felt obligated to name her first born after him.

"Thank you, Remus."

"Not a problem. But promise me one thing?" he asked, and she nodded. "Be gentle with him. James can be rather…delicate."

* * *

Around half past seven, Lily made her way up to the library, unsure of what she was going to say to Potter. _James_, she decided. They were partners whether she liked it or not, and at some point she had to set aside her stubbornness. He could be James. It didn't mean anything had changed between them—it certainly didn't mean she fancied him. It was just his name. She would use it in the form of a peace offering, and hopefully he wouldn't make much of it.

Upon walking through the doors, Lily found him tucked into a corner near the periodicals, looking thoroughly engrossed in his work. The newspapers had been enchanted to turn their pages in front of him while James wrote furiously on a piece of parchment.

Now that she'd located him, Lily wished that she could just leave him to his work. It would be an unpleasant conversation at the very least, and she wasn't sure what she was going to say exactly. But she couldn't just walk away, she knew. This might be the only opportunity she had to catch him off guard.

"Hello, James," she said, approaching him and unloading her books onto the table.

He stared at her for a moment, his confusion no doubt a direct result from her use of his given name. Relieved that he hadn't started shouting at her in a fury or abandoned her without so much as a two fingered salute, Lily took the seat across the table from him.

"Lily," he said, both curiously and cautiously.

"Remus said I might find you here," she offered. "I thought we could talk."

Regaining his cool composure, James stretched. "I'm not really interested."

"I understand that you're upset with me, James, but we need to address what happened the other day."

"Listen, let's not travel down this road, alright?" He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

Lily quashed her rising temper. No shouting. Not even if he was being impossible. She'd promise to be kind, and nothing would be solved by name-calling and arguing. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for another round.

"We don't have to pretend to be friends, and I don't expect you to speak to me all the time. But when I have something I need to say, God damn it, James, just _listen_," she pleaded.

He appeared to be impressed, and Lily wondered if he understood how hard it was for her to keep herself in check just then. His brown eyes fixed on her, Lily felt suddenly self-conscious. Was she making a complete arse of herself? Was there something on her face? She diverted her eyes and tried to make herself a bit smaller. Of all the times for her confidence to go right out the window…

"I'm listening, Lily."

His words sounded sincere to her ears, so she met his eyes once more. They _really_ were gorgeous eyes, shades of brown intertwining with greens, and they comforted her. She had his fullest attention if she wanted it.

"I'm sorry for some of what I said the other day. The things you say _do_ mean something to me. Sometimes more than I care to admit."

"I'm sorry as well, for shouting and avoiding you this past week. It's just difficult, you know? Every time I turn around we're getting into an argument, more so now than ever because of the project. It's tiring and frustrating, and there isn't a magic word that is going to make us get along."

Lily understood _exactly_ where he was coming from. At times he could be painfully difficult to deal with. Lately though it had gotten better, but there was still this combustible energy between them ready to blow up with the slightest spark.

"We've known each other for six years, Lily. It's not as if we can reintroduce ourselves and start again. There's too much bad history between us. I've been a complete arse and you've been a bitch right back. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever be able to work together."

"It's hard."

"It _is_. So let's just accept it, alright? We're never going to really like each other."

"But you _do_ like me. And I don't hate you."

"It's not going to change though, is it? I'm going to keep liking you and asking you to Hogsmeade. And you're going to reject me because you find me intolerable."

"I don't…you're not…" Lily growled, frustrated.

He wasn't _intolerable_. He was just…James. Lily realized that, even if she could shape him into the ideal partner, she probably wouldn't. There were parts about him that she enjoyed, parts of him that she found great comfort in.

"Do you foresee yourself going out with me ever?" he asked, softly.

"No," she said, the answer slipping from her lips before she could properly process the question.

"Then the status quo remains the same."

He seemed to be taking her rejection rather well considering. She watched as he returned to his parchment and newspapers, nearly ignoring her presence entirely it seemed. Lily hated herself for answering so quickly. But he had asked that damn question so many times before that her response came as naturally as breathing. No, she would not go out with him. But when she considered his smile and the way she felt around him, Lily began to regret answering him the way she had—unyieldingly.

"What are you working on?" she asked lightly.

"Muggle Studies. I've had to do a lot of research for this reflection essay. And since it's due soon, I've been spending a lot of time here."

"What did you decided to write about this time?"

She didn't even want to consider her pathetic excuse for an essay lying on her bed. It wasn't anything more than brainstorming and free writing. By the looks of things, James was going to have inches of parchment on her.

"You'll think it's stupid."

"I will not."

He looked at her. "Racism. With everyone around here so concerned with blood purity, I thought I might write about it. You do think it's relevant, don't you?"

Lily struggled to form words at the moment. James Potter was concerned with issues of racism? But he…well, he found exploding toilets to be hilarious. And now he was writing what looked to be three feet worth of parchment on such an issue? He had surprised her once again.

"I think it's very relevant, James. What position are you taking?"

"Well, it's wrong, obviously. I started addressing racism between wizards and Muggles. What you said about your sister—how she hated our kind—got me thinking about how it goes both ways, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"But somehow I brought house elves into all of it in the fourth paragraph, and it's grown from there," he said, looking at his essay in frustration. "I think I'm going to need to do some editing."

"Well at least you're in a better position than me. I haven't even started."

"Having trouble with the writing?"

"No, with a topic."

"Fuck, Lily. The essay is due in four days."

She groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Do you have any ideas at all?"

"Not really. I've been distracted lately. And we haven't had much time to talk, so nothing has sparked my interest there."

James fell silent, face scrunched up in thought. She wondered—no, feared—what was going through his head at that moment.

"Alright then. Meet me tomorrow around five o'clock at the Pitch."

"What? Why?"

He leaned across the table. "Because you're going to learn properly about Quidditch and flying. Both respectable pieces of Wizard culture and both things that I'm incredibly good at."

* * *

Lily dreaded the idea of a personal Quidditch lesson from James. She didn't particularly care for the sport, though she always went to games to show her Gryffindor solidarity. And flying, well that was a different matter entirely. She was a horrific flyer, having discovered that particular revelation after coming out of First Year flying lessons with a black eye and broken arm. Knowing James, she would be lucky to survive this evening at all.

A sensible person probably would have declined his offer, but honestly, she was desperate for a topic. Lily reasoned that she would stay long enough to get the information she needed for the project and then excuse herself politely. Not that she had anything better to do on a Friday night..

After she climbed the stairs to the top of the stands, she sat down and watched as the Gryffindor Quidditch team practiced. It was hard for her to imagine how much finesse it must take for someone to play the sport, how relaxed one had to feel on a broom. Though she never gave it much consideration before, Lily realized that most of the players on the team had grown up in wizarding families.

She supposed their ease with a broomstick stemmed from years of practicing before they ever arrived at Hogwarts. And as she watched James speed toward the hoops, gracefully avoiding other players and deftly handing the Quaffle, barrel rolling on his broom and making the intended goal with ease, she knew that he had to have been on a broom before he was even able to walk. James Potter was nothing short of a born Quidditch player.

It was a struggle to remove her eyes from him once she found him—and it wasn't hard to spot him even from where she was sitting. He was agile, bending down so he was parallel to the broom shaft to gain momentum. The wind, which she'd seen cause other players difficulty, was no match for him. He rolled with it, often times using it to his advantage. She wasn't sure what exactly was happening with the mock game, as her mind was set solely on sleek James and how he worked the sky.

When James started to fly towards her, she finally returned to her senses. She had been staring, as if under a spell, at him for what had likely been ten minutes. Lily Evans mesmerized by James Potter? God, what was wrong with her?

"Hello, love," he said, dismounting his broom with a jump and sitting next to her.

"You're really impressive with that broomstick, James."

"I know," he said, before slipping in dangerously close to her. "I'm really impressive with other sorts of broomsticks too."

_Arrogant berk_. However, she wouldn't have been surprised to find that James was skilled in those particular areas as well, having heard an abundance of rumors over the years. Not that she would ever want to find out. Because, well…just no. He was…no.

She pushed him away from her roughly, ignoring the fact that his close proximity was a bit maddening. He only smiled though, as if he had expected her to react that way from the very beginning.

"So," he said, placing his hand on her knee, "What do you think so far?"

She struggled to think at all, her attention fixed on the fingers resting against her knee. They were delightfully warm, though a bit clammy from practice. Still she didn't know why she was getting so caught up in one small—_irksome_, she reminded herself—gesture. Lily glared, but James didn't bother removing his hand.

"This is hardly my first Quidditch match," she reminded.

"I know, but this is the first time you've ever watched the team practice, isn't it?"

"Yes, and I still have no idea what the hell is going on," she said, defeated.

James then proceeded to explain to her "what the hell was going on". Initially she struggled to keep up with him as he rattled off terminology that she wasn't familiar with. He clarified for her every so often, which made things a pinch easier to understand. What she had noticed the moment he began his play-by-play, however, was James' passion.

"And watch there," he said, pointing to Adams while slipping his free hand around her shoulders.

Lily shrugged him off, lips thinned in irritation. "You're getting awfully handsie, Potter."

James ignored her. "Wait for it…right…oh, _fuck_." He jumped up immediately, bringing his wand to his throat and muttering a _Sonorus_ charm. "What the fuck was that, Adams?"

Adams' only apparent reply was a rude gesture, which promptly earned him a cuff over the head from Black. James growled in frustration.

"Let's call it an evening, you load of tossers," he announced before turning back to her and quieting his voice. "I have to talk with the team for a minute. Meet me on the Pitch in ten, yeah?"

"Alright."

.

After what Lily could only assume to be a motivational speech and perhaps a thorough arse ripping of Adams, James met her back on the Pitch looking more than a little exasperated and tired.

"So are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" she asked.

He smirked. "A little lesson in flying."

She was quite sure all of the color had drained from her face. But he had said "learn about flying" not "learn how to fly". There was more than a nuance difference between the two, and she most certainly had no intention of letting James take her up in the air.

"James, listen, you look really tired—"

"Don't try to get out of this, Evans," he said, releasing his broom and enchanting it to hover at his waist.

"But I _can't_ fly. Or need I remind you of the first year flying fiasco?"

He snorted. "That, I remember."

"See? There's no point in this. I bet I won't be able to even keep my broom under control."

"Which is why," he began, mounting his broom, "you're not going to be flying on your own."

He held out his hand to her, and she suddenly realized that he had every intention of taking her flying on _his_ broom. It wasn't going to happen; she wouldn't allow it. This whole evening had been one big charade to get her alone. And if he thought for one minute that she was going to play along, he had another thing coming.

"No, James. Sorry," she said, turning on her heel and making her way off the Pitch.

"I think you're physically incapable of having fun."

That halted her progress immediately, and she faced him. He was still sitting on the broom, arms folded across his chest with the stupid wind blowing through his stupid hair.

"I can have fun."

"You can't. You're too uptight."

There was that bloody word again. She was _not_ uptight. She _could_ have fun; it just wasn't James Potter certified fun. And what did she care if he thought she was uptight? Let him think whatever he'd like. It didn't matter one bit to her.

But the problem with that line of reasoning was that it did matter in some small way. She had such a fierce desire to prove herself lately. Many of her peers were eager to dismiss her abilities, blaming what she could or couldn't do solely on her blood status. They didn't care who she was as a person. At some point since the uprising of the war, she'd stopped being Lily Evans and had starting being another "Mudblood". So Lily fought to prove to them that she _was_ somebody. Her mistake there was her belief that she could actually change their minds.

And then there was James, who she felt had started to see her as a whole. Lily had the impression that she'd stopped being a pretty face to him or some unattainable goal, that on some level he appreciated her as a sixteen year old girl with depth and flaws. It scared her when she considered what that meant. What frightened her even more, however, was that she'd stopped seeing him as just an arrogant, self entitled toe-rag. She couldn't pinpoint when exactly, but he'd become James—brilliant, compassionate, loyal James. Lily didn't have to prove her worth to him, not now that he'd begun to see the person that she was. She didn't know what to do with that knowledge, but she wondered if it wouldn't dramatically shift their relationship.

"Push your personal boundaries, Evans, if only to prove me wrong. And I know how much you love doing that."

She was miserable walking back towards him, but her misery was perhaps worth it when she saw James smile victoriously. She really had to stop appreciating that attribute of his, had to stop appreciating _all_ of his fine attributes. It terrified her when she considered just how much she'd been admiring his good looks as of late. He was James, and she was Lily. She'd be damned before she found herself fancying him.

Lily regretted ever agreeing to this stupid idea of James when she sat herself between his legs, partly because she knew what was coming and partly because she and James were physically closer than she'd ever thought she'd wanted them to be. As she gripped the broom handle, he shifted forward on the broomstick so that his front was pressed into her back, his mouth dangerously close to her ear.

He didn't forewarn her when he kicked off, sending them soaring into the sky higher than Lily had ever managed to get on her own. She shrieked, causing James to chuckle.

"It's okay. I've got you."

Lily's stomach was aflutter, and for the first time, she didn't know whether it was from height or because James had slipped his arm across her belly, holding her tightly against him to secure her.

They were so far up then that Lily could see the entire Hogwarts' grounds. When James stopped to hover, she felt sick to her stomach as her feet dangled. The only thing standing between her and a painful death was James Potter, her once arch enemy. She involuntarily pressed further against him, hoping that more contact would ensure her safety.

"You think too much, love," he said.

"It's so far up and I'm pretty sure I'm moments away from dying."

"I told you," he squeezed her lightly as if to reassure her, "you're safe with me."

Lily closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle down. "I think I might be sick."

"Lie back. You can rest your head on my shoulder. That ought to help."

Reluctantly, she did, breathing in deeply and closing her eyes. She tried not to think of where she was or that she was leaning against James in a way that could easily be misconstrued if anyone were to see them.

"Talk to me," he said. "If I don't know what you're feeling, I can't really tell you how I feel differently, and that won't make for a very good essay."

"For one, I'm feeling like I'm going to throw up in about two seconds."

"And why is that?"

If Lily could have sent him "the look", she would have, but her stomach was protesting any shift in movement. "Because I'm hundreds of feet in the sky, you dumb arse."

"But what about that scares you?"

"Besides the obvious," she began, "Muggles really don't fly. At least, not like this. This doesn't feel safe to me at all. There's nothing stopping me from falling."

"It's perfectly safe. If you were to fall—and you won't—your magic would cushion you. It happens to loads of kids."

"Wizard parents put their children on these death traps?"

James laughed. "We don't start them out on these sorts of brooms. There is a line of children's brooms made by Shooting Star. They only hover about a foot off the ground and from a young age you get used to what it feels like to be on a real broom. My uncle bought me my first broom for my first birthday. A very appropriate gift from him."

"Big fan of Quidditch?" she asked, while willing her stomach to settle.

James seemed to hesitate. "He -uh- owns the Montrose Magpies. So, yeah, I guess you could say that."

She raised her eyebrows. Sometimes she forgot that James was not only a pure-blood but also from very old money. His uncle _owned_ a Quidditch team? Her father—quite the sports fanatic—would go bonkers if he knew she went to school with someone whose family owned a professional sports team, wizard sport or otherwise.

"But what your problem is," he said, and she opened her eyes, "is that you're too tense when you ride a broom. You don't trust in your magic enough. What you have to do is feel everything out and let your instincts take over."

That sounded logical, she supposed. He must have learned how to feel things out from a very young age, and, as Lily knew well, pushed himself to the brink of danger just to proceed to the next level. His poor mother must have suffered from so much stress raising a boy like James.

James removed his hands from the broomstick, and Lily's heart leapt into her throat. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to bring us down."

"No, James, I can't. Really."

"I know you can. Just relax. And if anything goes wrong, I'll get us out of it, okay?"

She didn't like this idea at all, but she could tell by the way he was looking at her that she was either going to get them back to the ground or they were going to hover where they were all night. Lily wasn't sure she could cope with that, so she gripped the handle and said a prayer.

Initially the broom shook and swerved, her stomach threatening to lose its contents with every jerk. James quickly put his spare hand over top of hers to steady the broom. He helped her for a little while until the ground was comfortably close—though still far enough away that a fall would end in a broken neck. When he let go of her hands, she began to make the descent on her own, guided by his coaching and encouragement.

She surprised herself, her flying ability having improved a little when she took James' instructions and put them to use. She was by no means good, but the broom wasn't spinning and swerving out of control anymore, for which her stomach was thankful.

When they reached the ground, James dismounted first. She then made her own attempt to get off the broom but found that her legs weren't cooperating at all. Clumsily, she fell right into James. He grabbed her and steadied them both.

"It's a strange sensation—being grounded again," he said. "It takes awhile before that goes away."

James smiled at her, and she became suddenly aware that she wasn't pulling herself from his arms. She'd never been so close before, at least not face-to-face. Her mind was spinning, but not from having her feet back on the ground. Having her fingertips placed softly against his chest—the one he loved to show off in vanity—was suddenly not enough. She flattened her palm, feeling the finely toned muscles under his uniform and swallowing hard.

Lily wanted to stop staring at him, to break herself from this awkward half-embrace. He was James Potter for Christ's sake. But what was happening between them felt magnetic—to fight it would be to fight against nature. Her senses heightened as he slipped a hand up over the curve of her hip to her waist and leaned down just slightly.

"James, I…"

It felt very natural to her as she tilted her head upwards, and he bent down a little more to meet her, his hand on her waist pressing her firmly against him. She knew where they were about to go, and part of her didn't want to go there. But that other part, the part that she never even knew existed before that moment, told her that _this_ had been what all those years of arguing had been leading up to. Lily had been enchanted by him, and she hadn't even realized it until James was just inches away from her and she found herself parting her lips for him helplessly.

But suddenly something interrupted the magnetism between them—a brief opportunity to stop this before it went too far. And Lily took the chance, nearly jumping back from him. What had almost happened there? Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She'd nearly let him kiss her, that's what. She'd _wanted_ James Potter to kiss her. And unable to properly get a hold on her emotions or keep her hormones in check at that moment, Lily found herself still wanting it.

The look in James' eyes reflected an almost terror. The way he was staring at her, however, didn't suggest a fear of what she would do to him for trying something like that, but instead suggested the very fear in Lily's mind. They'd almost kissed— he hadn't expected to either.

"I should go," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

"Yeah me too."

Her voice was hollow when she said, "Good night then."

The moment sure turned from him, Lily scrambled to get as far away as possible. The castle wasn't far, and perhaps then she could wrap her head around what had just transpired. But as she reached the closest alcove from the entrance hall, Lily didn't know where to begin.

While she expected the cool stone against her clammy chest to ease her of this near fever, it didn't. Something had happened back there on the Pitch, something beyond the surface. Why hadn't she seen this coming? There were signs, of course—her attention to his good looks, her sadness in his absence, the way he made her feel like a person again. She'd been so fucking stupid to try to explain away those feelings. They'd all pointed to one thing—Lily had finally succumbed to his charms.

* * *

In the weeks that followed that night on the Pitch, Lily spent every spare moment trying to come to terms with her feelings. Episodes and incidents that had happened in the past came back to her, unfurling to reveal the truth she fought to deny. Ever since that night in the library spent discussing Muggle Studies, Lily had begun to see James differently. He hadn't always been insufferable; she simply chose to view him that way. But when James' opinion of her shifted, she was forced to shift her own to make things work. It was that shifting that brought on the near catastrophe at the Pitch.

It comforted Lily that James seemed to have been equally shaken as she had been, which initially came as a great surprise. She expected his flirtations and suggestions to increase ten-fold when in reality she noticed an almost immediate decline. In fact, it was as if he didn't want to be caught alone with her at all, as he suggested that they meet in extremely public places—though not in so many words. But despite their new, unspoken agreement about never putting themselves in that sort of position again, neither of them could ignore what had happened.

At meetings, James' casualness was noticeably—_agonizingly_—forced. He tried to joke around with her, tried to be the person he was before the Pitch, and he couldn't. Lily, for her part, was short on words and painstakingly awkward when she did have to offer opinions. But what was their only alternative to the unease? Discuss what had happened? That would require actually acknowledging what had transpired, and acknowledging something made it real. Lily knew she couldn't be the one to start that conversation—she simply wasn't ready for it. And James? He didn't seem eager to go there either.

James _had_ been eager, however, to make it clear that he wasn't going to ask her to Hogsmeade as the day approached. She was certain he'd been trying to reassure her subtly that he wouldn't make things even stranger between them, but there was nothing delicately put about mentioning his date with Bridget Lewis at every pause and how he was eager to spend the morning staring at her "gorgeous tits". And while his intentions had been earnest, Lily found that hearing about Bridget and her tits wasn't consoling at all. In fact, she'd spent the better part of her mealtimes staring at the 5th year Hufflepuff and wondering what was so great about her anyway. Her tits weren't _that_ impressive.

.

When the morning of her trip to Hogsmeade came, Lily swore to herself that she would have a grand time, even if it killed her. She would _not_ think of James and Bridget, would not even entertain the thought of him admiring another girl's breasts—not that she'd ever considered him admiring _hers_ until that moment, which brought about a whole different set of emotions in her. She quickly dismissed them, but not before a blush crept its way to her cheeks.

Upon arriving in Hogsmeade, Lily, Jane, and Mary went to work on the day's most important task—Christmas shopping. It took the better part of the morning and right up to early afternoon, but Lily was pleased with her haul. She'd found something for her mum—a lovely scarf that would change colors to compliment whatever articles of clothing was worn with it—as well as a gift for her dad—a newly released title on British Quidditch teams. Lily had nearly purchased a glamour potion for Petunia—who always enjoyed dressing up to give her that little extra flair—but she thought better of it at the last moment. Petunia would rather receive a pile of dog dung from her than any sort of "abnormal" gift.

After a quick stop at Scrivenshaft's for a new quill, the girls slipped into the Three Broomsticks, seeking refuge from the heavy falling snow. They weren't alone either; more than half of the Hogwarts' students had the same idea. It was packed.

"I'll grab the butterbeers, girls," Mary offered, sitting her things down on their recently claimed table.

Lily had already stripped off her cloak and was busy brushing snow from her hair when she noticed James walking towards her. Apparently having seen James as well, Jane quickly excused herself to the loo, leaving Lily to fend for herself.

"Lily, my heart," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

Lily froze. It had been the first time they'd touched since the Pitch, and Lily wondered what had happened to that silent agreement—the one about not making things any more awkward than they already were. But her body hummed pleasantly with the contact, dreamy warmth filling her. She could get used to this—an idea that was startling. Lily struggled with whether she should pull away or not, but as a sort of Christmas gift to herself, she remained in the half embrace with him.

As she turned in a little to face him, she noticed a bitter smell coming from his glass of pumpkin juice. Lily arched an eyebrow, and apparently James could only grin in defense.

"Is that pumpkin juice laced with Firewhisky?"

"Yes, love, it is," he replied with such a casual grace that Lily was baffled. "Would you like a taste?"

She held up her hand to stop his offer. No wonder he'd dared to touch her; his inhibitions were a little loose just then. To Lily's surprise (and disgust), she was for once pleased with his inclination towards rule breaking.

"Where's Bridget?" she asked, her slight irritation with that particular situation apparent in her tone.

James waved her off. "Her tits weren't that great after all."

Lily bit back both a smirk and an "I could have told you that", relishing in this small victory. She recognized her jealousy from before, recognized it and for once in her life didn't try to mask it for something else. Perhaps she _did_ fancy James a bit, but fancying someone didn't mean you _loved_ them.

"Thought I might have a word with you actually," James said.

"About?"

"The hippogriff in the room."

There was no doubt about what he was referring to, and she'd dreaded this moment, praying that it would never come. "Do you want to go someplace more private, or…?"

"No, that little table in the corner ought to be fine."

James steered her towards the table, and Lily took notice of several sets of eyes watching them. The conversation was going to be awkward enough as it was, and she didn't particularly care to have people observing them, or worse, overhearing them. Lily was perfectly happy to keep that night on the Pitch their secret. If people gathered that they'd nearly kissed, rumors would spread like wildfire.

"So," she began, sitting down, "what is it?"

He sighed heavily, and Lily thought that James was wishing he'd put more Firewhisky in his drink before approaching her. "I've been thinking a lot about that night."

Lily couldn't bear to look at him now that they'd started discussing this. She feared she would end up blushing or analyzing every shift of his lips and furrow of his brow. Better to push those physical manifestations of his feelings from her mind.

"Me too."

"I've been chasing after you for years, Lily, but I never thought that what happened would…well, ever happen."

"_Nothing_ happened."

James looked at her pointedly as if to tell her she was full of shite; he needn't have bothered—she already knew it.

"Look, I just want to be friends, alright?" he said, sighing once more.

Just wanted to be friends? His words delivered a thorough punch right to her stomach, much to her amazement. All this time that she'd been considering what was going through his head, and she'd never imagined this. And even if she had suspected it, Lily would have never expected it to hurt so badly.

"But you've been trying to date me since fourth year."

"I'm well aware. And trust me, I was really shocked when I came to this conclusion. You're such a great girl, Lily—"

"Are you giving me the 'it's not you, it's me' speech?" she asked, incredulously.

"The what?"

"Nevermind."

"It's just…everything that I've learned about you since the beginning of this project has only made me like you more. And we've been getting along really well besides the bickering every now and then. I just…don't want to fuck that up, you know?"

She understood where he was coming from, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. Getting involved with each other would complicate matters exponentially; it would be completely unreasonable. But he'd _done_ something to her, worked his magic on her, making the prospect of a platonic relationship with him crushing.

Lily had been so used to him wanting her that she wasn't sure how she felt now that he'd obviously stopped. He'd _always_ desired her affection. She didn't know how to interact with him now that that card had been taken off the table; she never had to, after all. Maybe James would feel differently if he knew she returned his interest a little. But that, of course, would require her actually _telling_ him about her feelings, which was out of the question. No, she would just have to come to terms with his pseudo-rejection. He could never know about her change of heart.

"I can respect that, James."

"Brilliant! So we're agreed then? Friends?"

"Friends," she said, forcing a smile on her lips.


	4. A Muggle Christmas

**Author's Note: **Please pardon my passive aggressive warning, but I've been receiving a lot of wankery for one small element in this chapter, and wankery makes for disgruntled authors. There is one very brief mention of Snape/Lily in this chapter. This element does not change the course of Lily and James' story, nor is it at all significant. In fact, you can ignore it all together if you'd like (and please do if it bothers you that much).

Please don't leave a review saying that it ruined the story for you, and please don't tell me that Snape/Lily isn't canon. JKR never says that it's not canon, only that Lily broke off her friendship with Snape in those later years at Hogwarts. I've made a point to mention-again, in passing-that this brief relationship occurred early in their Hogwarts career. And for the record, I don't ship Snape/Lily at all. Snape with anyone romantically gives me chills, so I assure you that whatever is mentioned in this chapter isn't worth complaining about.

Thanks for reading this far, guys!

**

* * *

**

**IV. A Muggle Christmas**

Filling her hands with cold water, Lily splashed her face and took in a deep breath. She looked into the bathroom mirror and hated what was reflected back to her—bloodshot eyes, blotchy skin, and slightly swollen cheeks and lips. She shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be crying about what couldn't be changed. But ever since receiving the _Prophet_ that morning, she hadn't been able to stop.

Margaret Birkett, the girl that she had received a letter from that very summer saying that she wasn't returning to Hogwarts, had been found dead along with her younger brother. It felt utterly surreal. Lily still had that letter tucked inside her trunk, the one with Margaret's pretty handwriting. If she still had a piece of her, how could Margaret be really gone?

Lily held onto the porcelain sink for dear life, feeling another wave of tears bubble up inside of her. Her eyes fell to her watch, however, and her heart jumped in her chest. Twenty-two past eleven already? Fuck. She had a meeting with James and Professor Dirwint at half past. If she sprinted, Lily might be able to just make it, but given her state of disarray, she dreaded the idea of anyone seeing her. Lily couldn't miss the meeting though, not when she was going home for Christmas in two days.

Dashing out the door, she ran down the staircases and through the corridors, willing her feet to go faster and her face to return to its normal coloring. In her haste, she nearly tripped on two occasions. As she rounded the corner to Dirwint's office, she was relieved to see that James was still in the corridor. She'd apparently made it just in time.

"You can't keep being late like this, you know," he teased, slipping her a smooth smile. "It's really irresponsible, Evans, and I won't tolerate it much more."

She glared. "Shove off, James."

"I was worried you weren't going to show." His brow furrowed. "Oi, are you alright, Lily? Your face…"

He reached out for her, but Lily took a quick step forward and turned her back toward him to evade his hand. God, she hoped that he wouldn't press her about this. Lily _couldn't_ open up about this. She struggled with the thought of Margaret. To put her feelings into words…. No, there was no way. Telling James wouldn't make all these horrible emotions go away.

"It's nothing. I just got caught up in something," she lied. "But I couldn't very well miss this. We _need_ to talk to Professor Dirwint."

James flashed a look that suggested he knew something was wrong but he would let it go for now. Sweet James. His heart was often in the right place, but that didn't make him any easier to deal with in these situations. She was fortunately saved, however, when the door to Professor Dirwint's office opened.

"Need to talk to me about what?" Professor Dirwint asked jovially.

"Oh, Professor, hello,"' Lily said, relief apparent in her voice.

"Come in, come in. Would you like some tea? I've just made a fresh pot," he said, as she and James slipped into the chairs in front of his desk. Two cups of tea levitated towards them before they had the opportunity to accept or decline his offer.

"So," he began, "what is it that you'd like to discuss this morning?"

"We're in a rough position with the January deadline," James explained. "Since Lily and I are working on a project that requires us to talk and experience the differences between our backgrounds, it's going to be difficult to make the deadline with the Christmas holidays coming up."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right," he said, sipping his tea and considering their situation. "You're really the only pair I have that is working on a project of this nature, so it does put you at a disadvantage. Have you considered meeting up before break?"

"We have considered that, sir, but so far we haven't come up with any ideas for topics."

"I wonder," he said thoughtfully.

The office fell silent. Lily glanced over to James, who was looking at her desperately. What were they going to do about this? It seemed that the professor was having as much luck as they were.

"Perhaps," Professor Dirwint began, "you might try something a little different? If it's not too much of an inconvenience, there is always the possibility of Mister Potter visiting you over the holidays, Miss Evans? It would give you the opportunity to experience what life is like for Muggles, Mister Potter, and provide you, Miss Evans, with some insight on how it feels 'to have the tables turned', if I may."

While it once would have seemed like a fate worse than death to Lily, she wasn't bothered by the suggestion at all. In fact, a couple days of Muggle life might do James some good. She would have to ask her parents if it was alright, of course. They probably wouldn't mind though as long as it didn't interfere with Christmas Day and Mass. Petunia would throw a fit, but Lily'd long since come to expect that from her sister.

"What do you think, James?"

He looked at her. "What do _you_ think?"

"It might be a good experience for you."

"But your parents...I wouldn't want to intrude…"

Lily couldn't tell if he was trying to be polite or if he was just looking for an out. She supposed that it would be a uncomfortable for him, not only because he would be going to her house but also because he'd never had to live a magic-free day in his life.

"I think they would be alright with it. I can owl them at lunch."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "It would be a pleasure to have you over, James."

"Well, that solves that issue then. If your parents agree, you can easily write your topic on your experiences with living as a Muggle. And if not, might I suggest meeting up in Muggle London and introducing Mister Potter to some unique Muggle creations?"

"That sounds like a plan. Thank you, Professor."

"My pleasure, Miss Evans."

.

After making some polite conversation for a few more minutes, James and Lily left Dirwint's office. It wasn't a moment after the door closed that James took Lily by her arm to halt her progress.

She looked at his hand. "Something wrong?"

"Lily, I appreciate the offer, but if it's too much of an inconvenience…"

"Are you worried it'll be inconvenient, or do you not want to come? Because if you really don't want to stay for a couple days, you don't have to."

She searched his face for his answer. There was definite apprehension there, and it seemed like he was holding something back that he wanted to say. Sighing in frustration, James ran his hands through his hair.

"You don't think it would be strange?" he asked.

Of course it would be strange. Never in a million years would she have thought that James would visit her home. And considering what had happened at the Three Broomsticks, she didn't know if she wanted him there. Lily had been trying to make an honest attempt to snuff out her interest in him. But James wouldn't be coming over for fun; this was strictly Muggle Studies business. Their grade would suffer if she refused to host him, so Lily would have to suck it up. It would only be for a couple days, and a couple days couldn't really hurt anything.

"No, not really," she answered. "Well, maybe a little, but that's just history talking. We're friends now, right? And there isn't anything wrong with a friend staying over at another friend's house, especially when they have a project to work on."

"Right, just friends," he confirmed, though it sounded like it was said more for his sake than her own.

"Listen, you can think it over until I get an answer back from my parents. We'll decide then, alright?"

* * *

When the Express was ten minutes from arriving at Platform 9 3/4, Lily excused herself from the car that she'd been traveling in with Jane and Annalise and made her way down the corridor to one of the compartments further back. Since James had decided to come home with her, it would be better to find him before they pulled into the station than fight through the crowd on the platform to locate both him and then her parents.

Many eyes were on her as she passed the other students, their glimpses brief and wicked. She could only imagine what they must be thinking. Muggle hate had escalated recently in the wizarding world, and some of that had spilled into Hogwarts via the students whose families were known to have questionable views on Muggles and Muggle-borns.

Her mind preoccupied with not letting the looks get under her skin, Lily ran right into someone. She fell to the floor with a _thud_. Looking up, she saw Mulciber. A sneer was painted on his ugly face.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood."

His companions in his compartment erupted in laughter, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who was riding with him. Avery, no doubt, and Sev too, much to her own disappointment. Mulciber had done this to her on purpose just to get a laugh. Was this what she was now? Fodder for amusement?

Lily got to her feet, willing the heat in her face to subside. It wouldn't do to show them that she was embarrassed or afraid; that would only encourage them. But just as she was about to open her mouth, he slammed his palm against the wall next to her head, cornering her.

"Scared?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Of you, Mulciber? Not even close."

She hoped her voice was steady enough for him to buy into it. In all honesty, her heart was pounding in her chest. His hands looked big enough to crush her skull in with little effort. He could make things very difficult for her if he really wanted to.

"I know there must be a good reason why you're threatening Evans, so why don't you enlighten me?" a familiar voice asked.

Lily hadn't even heard James approach; her blood had been pumping so loudly through her ears. She wasn't sure how he could manage to look both casual and dangerous as he leaned against the wall, rotating his wand between his fingers, but he did. Lily felt immediate relief as Mulciber turned his attention from her to James.

"What's this? The blood traitor arrives just in time to stand up for his Mudblood girlfriend? What did she have to do to get you on her side, Potter? Let you fuck her, did she?"

The chorus of laughter was cut off prematurely when James took Mulciber by the shirt and slammed him against the corridor wall. Lily wasn't sure she'd ever seen James as angry as he was then. He looked to be contemplating the use of an Unforgivable.

"Don't you ever talk about Lily like that again," he hissed, his grip on the shirt tightening.

"Or what? You'll hex me?" He snickered. "Must be one sweet fuck if you're willing to make enemies of us. Might have to try me a piece—"

Mulciber's face suddenly reddened, and he began groping for something around his neck. Small choking noises sounded from his throat, as if he were being strangled. There was nothing there though.

Her eyes flicked over to James, who stared at Mulciber in deep concentration. Lily panicked. What did he think he was doing? Was he hexing him intentionally or was this some sort of involuntary magic? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to let him continue.

"He's not worth life in Azkaban, James," she said, touching one of his arms lightly.

The spell ceased and James released his grip, sending Mulciber sputtering to the floor. Several of his Slytherin friends came rushing into the corridor, and Lily realized that it was probably best that she and James get out of there as quickly as possible before Mulciber's friends turned on them.

She took James by the hand and led him away from the group, seeking sanctuary in an empty car farther up. As soon as the door shut behind them, James ran his fist into the wall in anger. Lily wasn't sure what to do to calm him, so she tentatively placed her hand on his back.

"James? I, um, appreciate what you did back there, but you didn't have to get involved."

"Yes, I did. I couldn't just stand by and watch that happen, especially not to you. You don't understand…I…you're…" He sighed, turning towards her. "We're friends. And friends help each other out."

His hands settled on her forearms and gave a gentle squeeze. When had touching become something that they did with one another? They had agreed to be friends, yes, but did it require so much physical contact? She'd love to explain to him that that sort of thing wouldn't help her get over him, but Lily couldn't really do that, of course. Instead, she tried to numb herself to it.

"Thank you. Really, I mean it. I'd like to think that I can handle this sort of bullying, but—"

"Don't ever think that you can deal with Mulciber on your own. Promise me. The things that he could…Lily…"

He didn't have to complete his thought; she was very well aware of the horrible things that could happen to her. As she was about to tell him as much, she looked up at him and became suddenly lost. This was the first time since the Pitch that they'd been completely alone with each other. And there it was again, that strange magnetism between them, inching them together.

Lily allowed herself to be pulled into the moment. It would halt any progress she'd made on getting over him, but she didn't care, not when his lips looked so inviting. And maybe kissing him would do the trick. It sounded foolish, but that sort of thing always fixed things in fairy tales. There _was_ a kind of magic in a kiss, and perhaps it would be enough to break this spell he'd cast on her.

"James?"

"Yeah?" he answered, breathlessly.

"I just…would you—"

The train lurched to a halt, sending James crashing onto the seat and Lily toppling on to him. For a second, there seemed to be a mutual agreement between them not to move. Lily's senses tried to store as many things away as possible—the smell of his cologne, the smoothness of his skin, the way his leg felt between hers. But the moment that they realized they passed over the threshold of awkwardness, she jumped off of him.

"We should go," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Mum will be waiting for us."

The ride home from King's Cross was awkward at the very least. Lily's mother, embarrassingly enough, chatted non-stop from the moment she met James, despite all those years of Lily writing home about horror stories co-starring James. Her mother was kind to a fault though and seemed very pleased to have another person to fuss over for a few days.

Her mother's chatting she'd come to expect, but what really shocked Lily was her sister had actually come with her mother to fetch her and James. Petunia likely only did so because she couldn't wait to see this boy that Lily was bringing home, eager to form more negative opinions about magical folk to justify her hatred. Petunia turned her nose up at the first sight of him and hadn't said a single thing on the ride home.

Much to her surprise, James did well in the car. At first Lily was concerned that he might become sick, being that it was likely his first time in one. She didn't miss the look of relief in his expression when they pulled into the drive, though.

"When is Dad going to get home?" Lily asked, opening the car door and climbing out.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" her mother said, tucking her hair behind her ear in the very way Lily always had. "Sorry, dear, it must have slipped my mind. Your father had to go a business trip this week. It was all arranged last minute, and he was in a mood for days over it."

For weeks she'd been looking forward to seeing her father. Not that she didn't want to see her mum, but Lily and her dad had a special kind of connection. She'd been his little tom boy, coming home with scraped needs and covered in an inch of dirt, where as her sister had always placed value on being prim, tidy, and the perfect example of feminine virtue. Lily and her father had always found some sort of trouble to get into over her holidays; the fact that they would have less time to do so this holiday disappointed her to no end.

"He'll be home in time for Christmas though, won't he?"

"Of course, dear," Mum reassured, unlocking the front door. "I'm sorry you won't get the chance to meet him, James. Perhaps next time?"

"Sounds great," he said.

Lily glanced at him to find him smiling. She wasn't sure what to make of that. Did he really want to come back? Had he just said it out of politeness? The latter was the more likely of the two. James had a notorious record for trying to charm just about anyone who crossed his path. Yes, that was it. He couldn't really be interested in visiting her home again. After all, James wasn't interested in _her_ any longer. And, Lily realized, she really had to stop over analyzing every little thing he did.

"Lily, show James to the guest room so he can get settled in," her mum said, unlocking the front door for them. "I have to run to the grocery to pick up some things for dinner."

"We could have stopped on the way, Mum," Lily called, exasperated, as she stopped on the bottom step of the stairs.

Petunia stood in front of her, looking thoroughly put out. "Mum didn't want to. She was worried her precious little Lily would be too tired from traveling. Wouldn't want to inconvenience you or anything."

Her words stung, and Lily remembered why she hated coming home on the holidays. Petunia's passive-aggressive comments got old quickly. What made everything worse was that they had company this time, and Lily couldn't be sure Petunia would be polite to James. Not that James would be bothered by it. If push came to shove, he could certainly handle his own.

"Why don't you go with her?" Lily suggested.

"Why? Do you want some alone time with your boyfriend? Or rather, your second boyfriend?"

Lily's cheeks reddened. "You're insufferable, Petunia."

She motioned for James, who had been standing by her on the steps, to follow her upstairs. Lily couldn't believe the nerve of her sister. Wracking her brain for something particularly wicked to do to get back at her, Lily came up empty handed. If only she were allowed to use magic outside of school. Perhaps then Petunia would learn to think twice before she spoke.

"She's a charmer, your sister," James said as they walked down the corridor.

"Sorry you had to see that. She's just…"

"A complete cow?" he offered.

"James, she's still my sister."

"But I notice that you're not denying it."

Arriving at the door to the guest room, Lily rolled her eyes at his comment. As far as descriptions for Petunia went, she supposed that it was an accurate one. Lily dreaded what else her older sister had in store for her.

"So this is the guest room," she said. "My room is just to the right, and the bath is across the way."

"Thanks for letting me stay, Lily."

He spoke so softly that it almost sounded intimate. She hadn't agreed to host him for personal reasons; he had to know as much. They were just here to work on a project and nothing more.

"Just trying to get us through Muggle Studies," she said.

Lily opened the door and gestured for him to go in first. Watching as he surveyed the room and set his suitcase on the bed, the thought occurred to Lily that for someone like James her guest room must seem like a broom cupboard. After all, he was practically wizarding aristocracy, so he must live in a large house. Suddenly she felt extremely self conscious.

"Sorry, it isn't much."

He turned to her. "Not at all. It's charming."

"Your wardrobe is probably bigger than this."

"Well," he began, chuckling to himself and sitting on the bed, "it might be, but I've never been a fan of sprawling manor houses. It was lonely growing up in one, but it made for some great exploring, I guess."

"The beginning of your trip down the road to delinquency?" she asked, amused.

James smiled. "Something like that, yeah. You'll have to come over sometime."

Lily shifted uncomfortably. She didn't know about that. As she was struggling to see James as just a friend, she didn't think that spending some quality alone time with him would be good for her. And that was completely disregarding the fact that she would have no idea how to interact with his family, having been born into the Muggle middle class.

"I don't know..."

"Come on, Lily. You're a friend, and I invite friends to my home."

There was that word again—friend. As much as he liked to say it, they'd nearly kissed again since they'd come to their little agreement, which made for something a little more than mere friendship.

"Maybe over the summer then," she conceded.

"You could come the same week as Remus, Sirius, and Pete stay. We'll get you in all sorts of trouble."

Lily didn't even know what those four got up to over summer holiday, nor did she want to. There was probably a fair amount of rule breaking and perhaps even committing a few criminal acts—underage wizardry being the least offensive. And she _definitely_ would never be able to fit in with them.

She hesitantly sat next to him on the bed. "As much as that sounds like a right good time,  
I'll pass."

"Want me all to yourself then?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

That was the problem, wasn't it? Despite the fact that he could still use a little maturing, she fancied him. And all his flirting? Well it wasn't making it very easy for her to bury her emotions and forget about them. She was tired of his weird mixed signals—saying one thing and acting completely different.

"Friends don't flirt with each other, James."

He sobered immediately. "Sorry, I didn't mean…I'll stop."

"What I meant was, don't flirt with me if you don't like me," she clarified, feeling a sudden boost of courage.

When she glanced to see his reaction, she would have thought she'd grown another head. Well she had made her intentions quite clear with that, hadn't she? And honestly, what did she have to lose? They _weren't_ friends; they could probably never be _friends_. So she'd passed the ball to him with that statement and now it was up to him to do something with it. All she wanted was just one kiss, a kiss that would put her right again.

"Lily…"

She stood and tried to put on her best smile. "Can I get you anything?"

"Uh, yeah, a glass of water would be nice," he replied, a touch of confusion lacing his words.

Lily took the opportunity to escape and closed the door behind her. She would let him stew for a few minutes on what had transpired between them. Maybe he would take the hint and approach her. Maybe they could even have another one of those magnetic moments again, and this time they could seize it.

* * *

After dinner, Lily offered to do the dishes for her mother with James. Mrs. Evans was mortified that her daughter would suggest that company clean-up, but Lily tried to explain that the entire point of his visiting was to learn what life was like without magic. Doing the dishes would be a perfect opportunity to show how things weren't quite so simple for non-magic folk. Her mother continued to protest until Lily escorted her out of the room and sat her on the sofa in front of the telly.

"Sorry about that," Lily said, entering the kitchen.

James stood by the table, looking like quite the fish out of water. Lily tried to bite back a laugh. Had the boy ever cleaned dishes before? She really had to wonder. Perhaps she should ask.

"Do you do dishes at home, James?"

"Never. We have a few house-elves that take care of those sorts of things."

She stared at him. "You have servants?"

"Hey, don't say it like that. They're not _servants_. We treat them properly, and they're practically like family anyway."

"How long have you had them?" she asked, filling up the sink and cleaning off the table.

"Some of them have been around since before I was born. The youngest, Melphy, came to the house when I was five. We're very close, she and I. Sort of grew up together. In fact, she'd probably be laughing her head off if she saw me doing dishes."

"I didn't think house-elves laughed at their masters. Wouldn't they think it disrespectful or something?"

"We have an unconventional relationship," he said, smiling. "Do you remember when I said that my house was great for exploration? Well I didn't do it alone. Mel was my partner-in-crime before Sirius came along."

"And your parents were okay with that?"

He shrugged. "Mel is the clumsiest house-elf I've ever met. She's a walking disaster, so they didn't mind that she stayed out of the kitchen. They appointed her my companion, and the rest is history."

"It sounds to me like you corrupted the impressionable young thing."

"Wouldn't be the first," he said, his smile filled with suggestion.

Lily threw a dish towel at his face, a smile creeping on her lips. She pitied the poor creature that grew up with him and hoped that he was at least kind to her. Lily knew how he was prone to pranking even his own friends. Of course, house-elves had their own very powerful magic. Lily hoped he had been on the receiving end of some of it.

"You're going to dry, alright?"

James took the towel into his hands. "So what does that entail?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're really rubbish at this, aren't you? I'm going to wash a dish and rinse it. You'll dry it off and set it on the counter, so I can put things away when I'm finished."

"This would be a lot easier with magic," he muttered, as she handed him the first plate.

"Which is the point of this visit—for you to figure out what Muggle-borns have to go through for the first eleven years of their lives and then during every holiday until they come of age."

"The Trace is a load of bollocks."

"And you're above it, no doubt."

"Mum and Dad don't care if I use magic at home, so why shouldn't I?"

"That's an unfair advantage to being a pure-blood, you know. Or even a half-blood really."

"Well _you_ can use magic in a reasonable situation," he countered.

"Yes, James, but don't you understand how easy it would make my family's life if I could do magic at home? Why shouldn't I have the same right to magic as you?"

"You do."

"No, your parents allow you to use your magic even though it's illegal. My parents aren't given that choice. You can hardly call that equal."

His silence allowed Lily to claim her victory over him. They continued their work without speaking, though it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Every so often Lily would peer out of the corner of her eye to watch James fumble with the towel or inspect a drinking glass. It reminded her of her first time at Hogwarts when things were new and unfamiliar. That initial awkwardness took years to go away, and even now that she was half way through her sixth year, she still struggled with certain aspects of wizarding life and culture.

"What would you like to do next, James?" she asked when she was down to cleaning the silverware.

"Honestly? I'd like to see your room."

"Exactly what are you implying, James?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. I've always wondered what it looked like."

Lily shook her head, barely able to contain her smirk. Perhaps wizards didn't use that sort of pick-up line. "Alright, I can show you some of my Muggle things then."

Her nerves started to act up as she neared her bedroom door. She couldn't remember what sort of condition she had left it in before the start of term, other than it was not in the condition for company. Lily was notorious for never having a tidy room, and she'd always left it in bad shape when she packed up at the end of each holiday. Had she left any knickers on the floor? She was terrible about picking up her dirty laundry, especially, so it was a definite possibility. How embarrassing would that be?

As Lily pushed the door open, she did a quick scan of the floor before unblocking the door for James to come in. There, right next to her wardrobe door, was one of her bras—a shocking Fuchsia—lying in plain sight. She rushed over and scooped it up in one quick motion, hiding it behind her back.

"Nice bra, Evans. Didn't peg you for a hot pink kind of girl," he said, smirking.

Her cheeks were suddenly aflame. So he had seen it. Now she only had two options—melt into a little puddle of embarrassment or play it off like it was no big deal. As much as she would have loved to do the former, she opted for the latter. Casually, she tossed the garment into her laundry basket and plopped down on her bed.

"You saw nothing," she warned; tales of this could not get back to Hogwarts.

"Right, nothing."

He smiled just then, that signature smile that made her knees weak. It was strange—James Potter in her bedroom. What other sorts of black mail worthy stuff he would happen upon she couldn't be sure. Hopefully he would find it in his heart to have mercy on her should he come across anything.

In silence, she watched as James inspected her room without reserve. While in any other situation having someone go through her things without hesitance would be a bit creepy, James was supposed to be learning about Muggle things. She couldn't blame him for being curious. She looked at him as he peered into her open wardrobe, running his hands along her hung jumpers and shirts in inspection. One in particular caught his eye and he pulled it out, holding it up to himself and trying to stifle his laughter.

It was the horrific jumper her aunt had bought her two Christmases ago—sugar pink with cream stripes, and coated with lace and buttons. She'd begged her mother to let her give it away, but her mother insisted that she keep it and wear it when her aunt came over for the holidays. Lily had been praying for a growth spurt ever since so she could be rid of the damn thing.

"It was a gift," she explained.

He didn't bother to reply as he returned the jumper to its place. Lily was glad when he moved across the room to her desk. She would have been nothing short of mortified if James had found her leotards and tutus from her years dancing ballet.

Before Lily could think about what incriminating things he would find on her desk, James held up a framed photo. Initially she thought it was the one of her and David until she remembered that that one was at Hogwarts. No, this picture frame contained something that she wished James wouldn't have ever seen.

"You and Snivellus? I knew you were friends, and I figured that he had a thing for you, Lily, but…"

Glancing very briefly at the photo, she closed her eyes. The only reason she'd held onto the photo was sentimentality. Her heart twinged with guilt when she thought about how she couldn't save him, rescue him from the clutches of those awful friends of his. It was her only concrete evidence that he once was a good person.

"Don't call him that," she scolded.

"Sorry. Let me rephrase that—you and Snape?"

Lily nodded. "That was taken the summer before fourth year. We only dated for six months or so."

"Fuck," he groaned, sitting next to her on her bed. "No wonder you hated me for pranking him like I did."

"I would have hated you for pranking anyone like that. It wasn't because it was Sev."

"How far did you two…I mean, did you…"

That was the kind of conversation she'd have with a boyfriend or best friend, and James was neither. She had no responsibility to tell him; in fact, she hadn't even had that sort of talk with David yet. Not that David had been at the forefront of her thoughts lately. No, that spot had been preoccupied by the boy sitting next to her. Was it cheating, what she was doing? The more she considered it, the more she didn't want to discover the answer.

"Do you want to listen to some music?" she asked, hoping he would notice the sudden shift in topic and drop the conversation about Sev.

"Sure."

Walking across the room, she turned on the wireless, her favorite station already tuned in from the last time she was home. Lily had no idea what kind of music James liked. Then again, she wasn't even sure if he listened to Muggle music at all.

"Are you familiar with Muggle bands?"

"Some. I do live with Remus and his bloody record player after all."

"Not a fan of jazz and swing then?"

"Not in the small hours of the morning, no. Says it helps him concentrate. Meanwhile Pete and I can't get back to sleep. Even Sirius sometimes complains about it."

"And you haven't tried Silencing charms?"

James looked at her as if she was mad. "Of course, but those only last so far into the night."

Lily smirked. "And he doesn't do anything despite the fact that you ask him to stop?"

"No, he claims that after all the things he's had to put up with over the years, it's justified."

"It probably is," she said, as an ad on the wireless ended and the music was back. "Oh! I love this song!"

Turning up the volume to levels that would no doubt have Petunia beating down her door, Lily resisted the urge to dance around her room or sing along as she usually did in private or with extremely close friends. She wasn't about to make an utter fool of herself in front of James, not when she depended on a kiss from him to bring her back to normalcy. Instead she settled for tapping her foot and bobbing her head a bit, which had James smiling at her.

* * *

"I _knew_ it!"

Lily groaned, shifting on her bed. Was that Petunia? It certainly sounded like her. She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it, the sunlight nearly blinding. When had it become morning? She couldn't remember going to bed.

"Petunia?"

"The moment I laid eyes on him I knew there was something going on between you two!" she declared, triumphantly.

Lily heard a moan next to her. She looked over to find James in her bed and realized that she was lying in his arms. Lily sat up in an instant and scrambled to get out of bed.

"What the bloody hell…?" James muttered, stirring.

"Oh God," she whispered, covering her mouth.

Petunia clicked her tongue in mock disappointment. "Shame on you, Lily, cheating on that sweet boyfriend of yours. Never pictured you for a slag."

"I am not a slag!"

"Then why were you in bed with another boy? Wait, actually, what business did you have being in bed with a boy at all? Mum is going to have cow when she finds out."

"I wasn't…we weren't…" she stammered, wracking her brain for what had transpired."Don't you dare say a word to Mum."

"And what are you going to do to me if I do?"

"Honestly, keep your mouth shut, will you?" James asked, sitting up in bed. "It would be in your best interest."

"How dare—"

"Your sister comes of age at the end of next month, and that means she can use her magic freely. She could transfigure you into a horse if she wanted to. Not that you have far to go."

"James!"

Petunia set her jaw and glared at him for a few long seconds. Lily wasn't sure what her sister was going to do or say to him. While she may have been able to convince her sister to keep this a secret before, it was out of the question after what James had just said. However Petunia, in a fury, promptly stormed out the door, leaving her with some spare time to think up some sort of damage control.

Lily turned her attention to James after her door slammed shut. He shouldn't have said those things. Petunia was her _sister_. But it would be a lie if Lily had said she hadn't wanted to threaten those very things when Petunia was getting insufferable.

"You shouldn't have—"

"She's a complete _cow_, Lily."

"But—"

"Look, you don't want her to go tell your mother lies, do you?"

Shaking her head, Lily pulled out her desk chair and sat down. Were they lies? In the sudden excitement of the morning, she hadn't had the opportunity to really think about what had happened the night before. She remembered listening to music and grabbing a late night snack. There had been tons of laughing and another awkward conversation about Sev, but what had happened after that was a bit of a blur.

"When did we go to bed last night?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, his tone serious enough to strike up a panic in her.

She wracked her brain, but all she could recall was talking. "What do you mean? Should I remember something?"

"Merlin, Lily." James ran a hand through his hair. "You seemed to really be enjoying yourself last night. I guess I just thought I'd be…you know, memorable."

All the blood drained from her face. "James…did we…?"

A wide smile spread on his face and he laughed. "I really had you going there for a minute, didn't I?"

"You stupid, arrogant toe-rag!" she shouted, feeling both a mixture of embarrassment and relief. "I can't believe you!"

"You should have seen the look on your face though, Lily."

It probably would have been hilarious if it'd happened to anyone else. Naturally that's how most practical jokes went, though. She shook her head, half amused, half exasperated, then sighed and chanced a look at James who was still buried under her duvet. She'd jumped out of bed so fast that she hadn't even taken a moment to consider what it felt like waking up in James' arms, even if it had been accidental.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault," he said, sobering up a bit.

"Your fault?"

"I thought you fell asleep, and I swear I was going to go back to my room. I just wanted to rest for a minute, and I guess I passed out."

Lily shook her head. "No, I'm the one who asked you to stay after we ate the snack. You wanted to go to bed then, so that makes this my fault."

"Apologies accepted all around then?"

"Yeah."

"I should get dressed," James said, standing. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Muggle shopping, if Mum doesn't end up murdering me because of Petunia."

"Right, meet you in the hall in fifteen then?"

Nodding, she watched him walk out her door. Lily wasn't convinced that she had the energy for a shopping trip, but they did have an essay to write and he would only get so much out of doing dishes. One thought—one completely unrelated to Muggle Studies obligations—kept playing over in her head. She'd slept with James; she'd slept with James and couldn't remember it very well. He might be able to ignore that and act completely normal, but she couldn't. Where was that kiss when she needed it?

The shopping trip to town had been an adventure to say the least. Lily had encouraged James not to purposely make a spectacle of himself, as they were going to be out in front Muggles so he'd likely stick out anyway; there was no sense in drawing _more_ attention to themselves. Much to her delight, James had behaved, at least for a little while anyway.

They'd made it through a small clothing shop unscathed for the most part, though James had warranted a few strange glances when he'd seen some "brilliant Muggle shirts" on a display. As soon as he'd paid for his purchase, Lily had pulled him into an alley and explained that he shouldn't keep using the word "Muggle" lest people would think he was mad. James had assured her that he'd be careful, but that also had been short lived upon entering the large bookstore in town.

Honestly, she'd thought that he would be alright for the few moments she'd be in the loo. He promised that he'd stay in the section with all the sports books, but when she'd returned, he was nowhere in sight. After a full five minutes of searching, Lily had found him in the sexuality section, paging through the Kama Sutra.

"Look, Lil, even Muggles have one of these! Not nearly as many positions as in the Wizard's Kama Sutra though. Shame," he'd said, unabashed.

She'd tried to snatch it from him, but James had held it up in the air out of her reach. He'd then explained that he was going to buy the book to share with his fellow Marauders. Lily's cheeks had been hot as she escorted him to the till—James was rubbish with Muggle money—but after the shop girl saw the title of the book and James pulled Lily against him, wiggling his eyebrows in that infuriatingly suggestive way, Lily's cheeks were positively aflame. She'd scrambled to get out of the shop and vowed to never show her face in there again. James, on the other hand, had looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

Afterwards they'd gone to lunch where James had flirted shamelessly with the waitress. He'd kept giving her corny pick-up lines—"do you believe in magic, love" and something about his "wand" that Lily had decided to permanently push from her memory. Lily had promised to take him to the arcade after they'd eaten, but considering how he'd been misbehaving all morning, she'd told him that it was out of the question. They would instead go home.

James had sulked half the way home, but his mood had lightened up eventually. Lily had asked him what his favorite parts about their trip to town were, and he began to answer her animatedly. Lily had found herself smiling as he talked—any anger that she felt towards him dissipating.

She chatted away as they strolled up her drive, responding to a question of his and completely missing the bicycle leaning against the porch. If she had seen it, she would have known better than to go inside with James, laughing at the things he said and smiling brightly at him.

As she stepped inside the house, she heard, "Lily!" and her heart dropped to the ground. David. She panicked, looking for a place that she might hide James, who at that moment looked just about as interested in seeing David as David would no doubt be to see him. Before she was even able to find a place, David met her at the door.

"Lily? Who is this?"

"This is James Potter," she introduced awkwardly. "From school."

"Your sister didn't mention you had company."

Rage burst within her. So that was it, was it? Petunia was getting back at her for what had happened that morning. She didn't care if she was ruining her sister's relationship so long as she got what she wanted.

David's eyes reflected a deep worry. Lily knew what he was thinking as he eyed up James. James was an attractive classmate who she hadn't told him was staying over for a few days. It would be only natural for him to put those pieces together. Unfortunately, he would come up with something along the lines of two plus two equaling five.

"I was going to tell you about it, honest. It just slipped my mind."

"Like calling to tell me you were home slipped your mind? I had to find out from your sister at work, Lily," he said bitterly, his blue eyes blazing

"I can explain if you let me."

"I think I already know what's going on, thanks."

"Maybe you should listen to the girl," James interjected, anger lacing his words. "Give her a chance before you throw away the best thing that will probably ever happen to you."

Lily was torn between wanting to yell at James for getting involved and analyzing what he'd just said. Did he really think that she was special enough to be the best thing to ever happen to someone? Her heart betrayed her with the thought of just how badly she wanted to hear him say that in reference to himself.

"He's not my boyfriend, David."

When Lily saw Petunia approach, she knew things were about to take a bad turn for her. There was a wicked look in her eyes. When Lily assumed that her payback for what was said that morning had been telling David she was in town, she was sorely mistaken.

"If he's not your boyfriend, why were you two having sex this morning?"

"We weren't having sex! You're such a liar, Petunia!"

"Then swear to God that you weren't in bed with him."

Her sister knew she couldn't do that. Lily had been in bed together with him, so she couldn't swear to God. No matter what she said at this point, she was damned. Tears started welling in her eyes, but more so out of anger than sadness.

"I was in bed with him," she told David. "But we weren't doing anything."

She knew as soon as he got confirmation that she'd been in bed with James, all hopes of continuing her relationship with David were over. Lily wanted to feel upset over that, but in reality, he would probably be better off without her. That thought alone made her upset. Would she ever be good for anyone? Or would she always be trouble because she was a Muggle-born?

"Does it matter?" he asked, incredulously. "You cheated."

The words "I didn't" formed on her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. She had cheated, hadn't she? After spending the past four months appraising James' good looks, reveling in the way he made her feel, and nearly kissing him twice, she couldn't very well say that she hadn't.

David pushed past her and James, storming out the door. Her relationship with David was officially over, all thanks to her vindictive sister. All of their mutual friends would learn of her betrayal and judge in his favor. Now she would be an outcast in the Muggle world too.

"What the hell did you just do? Do you understand how difficult life is for your sister already? You would have made a great Slytherin, Petunia," James hissed.

"Don't ever group me with you abnormal people!"

While she knew they were exchanging choice words, Lily couldn't bring herself to interject. Petunia didn't know how hard she had it at school, didn't understand that she was staring hatred in the face every day. She hadn't told her family for fear that they would worry. But, she realized, she was looking at that same hate filled monster in the face now in the form of Petunia. Her own sister was disgusted by her.

And in the middle of all of this was James, the very person that she spent the past six years loathing and misunderstanding, standing up to anyone who dared to say anything against her. She didn't deserve him, not after all that she'd done.

Overwhelmed, Lily tossed down her shopping bags and tore up the stairs to her room. Not a moment later, a soft knock sounded through the door. She fought to steady her voice enough to invite him in. Finding that it was an attempt in vain, Lily opened the door for him and found herself enveloped in his arms.

She savored the warmth of his body, the way he let her cry into his chest while he smoothed her hair. Lily tried to nestle in closer, but she wasn't sure it was possible. Time seemed to escape her, but she didn't care as long as he was holding her.

"I'm sorry about all that, Lily," he said softly. "He should have given you the benefit of the doubt."

"No," she began, wiping her eyes, "he was right."

"You're barking. You never cheated on him, or at least not with me."

"That's not exactly true."

"You can hardly call the two times we—I don't know, got caught up in the moment?—cheating."

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "It's more than that, James. The things that I've been thinking…"

"Thinking about what?" he asked.

"About you."

James released her and paced about the room. "You…Lily…"

"I want to kiss you."

Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned to her. "You do?"

"I think there's something wrong with me, like I'm under some sort of spell or something. A kiss might break it."

"I haven't slipped you a love potion, if that's what you mean."

"No, I meant figuratively," she said, frustrated with the fact that he was taking her so literally.

Once more she sat on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest. The smell of James' cologne clung to the fabric, and she breathed it in. Should she have confessed that secret to him? The James she knew long ago would have jumped at the chance to snog her, so why wasn't this James?

"I like…being friends, Lily."

"Well I'm not sure if I do."

"You've had the past three years to accept any one of my offers," he said, exasperated. "It's not really fair of you to all of a sudden want something different."

She looked at him, hurt. "Sorry."

"No," he sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. Look, why don't I give you a little while to rest? I need to write back to Dad anyway, and I could use a kip myself."

James didn't wait for her answer before leaving. Shutting her eyes tightly, she prayed that she hadn't ruined things—whatever they were—with him just as she had with David.

* * *

Summoning up as much courage as she could muster, Lily knocked on the guest room door and waited for James to answer. Despite the fact that she was emotionally drained, which left her exhausted, she hadn't managed to fall asleep. Instead her eyes watched the minute hand tick by and then the hour hand. It'd been three hours since their little conversation; how long could one boy sleep?

In the room there was some shuffling around, and Lily was mentally begging him to open the door already. When he did, however, she was quite startled. James looked thoroughly shaken, his eyes darting about the room, and he seemed to be finding it difficult to stand still. Peering past him, she saw that his suitcase was nearly packed. A sense of dread washed over her. What had she done wrong?

"James?"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," he said, apparently knowing what she was thinking.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you're packing? If I said something—"

"I've just received an owl," he explained, tossing the rest of his things in the suitcase, "I can't stay, Lily. It's urgent."

"You're not lying, are you?"

For a moment he stared at her, as if questioning himself whether he wanted to elaborate or not. With a sigh, he said, "You can't tell anyone, but Sirius has run away from home. He has nowhere else to go but my place. I can't turn my back on him."

Lily was startled. Black ran away from home? Everyone knew that tensions were high between him and his family, but she never imagined that it would get this far. The most natural thing would be for him to go to James' home.

"Of course, James. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm not even sure what's happened, but it can't be good," he said, taking his suitcase in hand. "Your fireplace wouldn't happen to be connected to the Floo Network, would it?"

"Yeah, we set it up last year when my grandmother was ill and I was traveling back and forth. I've some Floo powder in my room. Let me get it."

"Thank you."

Before she knew it, James left, and she was completely alone again. She understood his need to leave, of course. But she also wondered if part of him wasn't relieved to get out of her house after she'd made that confession. Obviously James just wasn't into her like she thought he was. That didn't leave her in any better of a position though. Lily would just have to talk to him, make him understand where she was coming from. Yes, when they were back at school, she could set things right.


	5. A Serpent in the Garden

**V. A Serpent in the Garden**

When she arrived back at school, Lily noticed another sudden shift in the student body. Over the holidays there had been another round of murders, only this time they were all Muggle-borns. She watched as Sev, Avery, Mulciber, and the rest of that Slytherin gang strutted around, pleased with the turn of events. They'd even chosen to bless her with their presence on two occasions, shoving her into the corridor wall once and flat out hexing her another time. It would be better if she stayed out of their way, she knew, and so she took to spending her spare time in the dorm studying for her advanced Charms lessons.

Though she'd hoped to run into him, James had been scarce these first few days back. The one time she had seen him he had waved to her and carried on with what he was doing. It was obvious her outburst over the holidays had seriously damaged their supposed friendship. Lily decided to give him a bit of space, thinking that perhaps all he needed was some time to think things through.

That was, of course, until Annalise, in her post-holiday cheeriness, came bursting through the door with a look on her face that Lily would expect to see on Christmas morning. However, when on Annalise, it was an I've-got-something-juicy-to-tell-you-witches face.

"What is it?" Mary asked from her bed.

"You'll never guess," Annalise said, looking as if she were about to burst.

Jane looked up from her History of Magic homework, humoring her. "Then don't keep us in suspense."

"James Potter is dating Georgiana Yaxley," she announced, punctuating her words with a squeal.

The sudden urge to vomit hit Lily like it never had before. James was seeing someone? But he didn't even _know_ her, Lily thought reproachfully. Then she remembered that Georgiana had been playing Seeker on the Gryffindor team for the past year, which meant that he probably knew Georgiana better than he knew Lily herself. And _that_ certainly didn't comfort her any better.

"Isn't it so adorable? I mean, they look perfect together. And they're both from well bred families, aristocratic even. It's like something out of a fairy tale," Annalise said dreamily.

Yes, and it was supposed to be _her_ fairy tale. Now Prince Charming had run off with some other princess, leaving Lily waiting on the kiss that would wake her up. It was hardly fair. Then again, James had said that he'd just wanted to be friends; she was the one who kept convincing herself that he was still interested in her.

Of course, he _had_ been interested in her for the past few years. Now that he had her attention, he didn't want it anymore? Lily couldn't help but feel a little bitter about it. Had everything up until their partnership been a game to him—see if the Muggle-born will fall for the pure-blood and then reject her? He had thrown the I-just-want-to-be-friends card not long after she'd nearly kissed him. None of this was _her_ fault. It was that stupid, arrogant berk James Potter playing a prank on her, a three year long con just for fun.

God, how she wanted to hex him.

* * *

Her first instinct was to start avoiding him again, but Lily eventually settled on making her presence known. He would feel far more awkward with his obnoxious girlfriend if she were in the room than if she weren't, and Lily wanted him to feel uncomfortable. After all those years he had made her dread turning the corner into the common room, Great Hall, or any classroom, she felt he deserved it. Payback was a bitch. And she would be damned if she was the first one to speak with him. No, he would have to come to her if he wanted to talk.

The flaw in her master plan, however, was that she hadn't realized how painful seeing James with another girl would be. Perhaps if he'd decided to date someone plain, she would have been able to handle it. Georgiana Yaxley, however, was anything but. Like Annalise, she had flawless skin and perfect hair, a pale blonde that she fashioned in a different style every day. Lily thought of her own hair, and how she never bothered to do a thing to it. It also didn't help matters that Georgiana was the very definition of dainty—short, tiny boned, tiny waist, light as a feather. Lily would have sworn she was a whale next to James' girlfriend. And the fact that she was a pure-blood? That nearly made Lily cry. What's that he'd said about blood purity meaning nothing to him?

It embarrassed Lily to say that she watched them together in those small private moments. Well, not watched _them_ but _him_ and how he responded to her. She wondered how it would feel to have her fingers laced with his in the corridors, what having his arm wrapped around her waist would be like. Those feather light touches on her skin, those quick kisses and the not-so-quick ones too…what would it feel like to be James Potter's girl?

And so she yearned and stole glimpses. Jane called her a voyeur and Lily didn't even bother denying it. Her best friend wouldn't be able to understand this—what it felt like to be ignored for weeks by the boy who'd been after her for years. She'd not disclosed anything that had happened between her and James to anyone. Thankfully Jane was the only person to put together that Lily fancied him. Mary was hardly around and Annalise didn't have a mind for subtleties.

It wasn't until February was creeping into March and their next project deadline was inching up on them that James finally approached her. She'd been coming out of her one-on-one lessons with Flitwick when she'd heard him calling her name. At the sound of it, her heart tugged. She quickly suppressed any romantic feelings towards him, reminding herself that she'd been the butt of James' practical joke.

"What?" she asked bitterly as he approached her with sodding Georgiana Yaxley attached at his hip.

"I was just wondering if we were going to meet up before our next essay is due for Muggle Studies."

Naturally he would act like nothing was wrong between them, like he hadn't hurt her, played her for the fool. She had a lot of choice words for him, none of which would be appropriate to say in front of Georgiana. Lily needed to get him alone, but unfortunately it seemed that he never was nowadays.

"I guess."

He gave her a look, one that clearly said: _I know we need to talk_. Realize that just now, did he? The strong urge to hex him surged through her.

"When would be a good time for you? Back to our usual Thursdays then?" he asked.

Lily didn't miss the glare Georgiana shot him upon hearing "back to our usual Thursdays". It apparently didn't set well with her that Lily and James had a weekly meet up before she'd come along. And no doubt Georgiana was well aware of how James had once pined after her. It pleased Lily to see her uncomfortable or even worried for once, though there was no real reason for Georgiana to be.

"No, I've rearranged prefect duty since we got back from holiday," she explained. "I'm afraid I'll only be able to do it on Saturday this week."

The truth of the matter was that Lily could be free on Thursdays if she wanted to be. However, she'd overheard in the girls' loo that James was taking Georgiana to Hogsmeade this weekend from a couple of the seventh year Gryffindors. Suddenly her Thursdays got all booked up.

Perhaps she should have felt guilty for her catty behavior, but Lily couldn't quite bring herself to, at least not where Georgiana was concerned. She'd watched from afar since January and saw Georgiana on multiple occasions laughing as one of her friends or her sister called other Muggle-born students "Mudbloods". Lily wasn't foolish enough to call James' girlfriend out on it when she was surrounded by her Muggle hating friends. If this—denying her a date with James—was the only way Lily could get back at her for now, then so be it.

"_James_," Georgiana hissed.

He groaned, frustrated. "Can we do it in the evening, Lily?"

"Sorry, I've promised to tutor Thomas from third year then."

"Well can't you cancel?" he asked.

"What do you have going on that's so important on Saturday?" she spat, knowing full well the answer.

"We're going on a date," Georgiana answered for him.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I guess you're just going to have to choose between a date and passing Muggle Studies then, _Potter_."

Georgiana looked up at James fiercely, who appeared to be shocked from Lily's use of his surname. "You don't need that rubbish class anyway, James. It's not important."

Not important? Lily had to resist the urge to strangle her. She shouldn't have been surprised to hear something like that from Georgiana, not with the Yaxley family's well known anti-Muggle doctrine. In fact, Georgiana's younger sister was known to be a part of Avery and Mulciber's crowd. But even equipped with all that knowledge, Lily couldn't help but resent Georgiana for her comment.

"Don't say something like that," James said, shrugging her off. "It _is_ important."

"Oh, honestly, people only take the class as a soft option or because they're Muggle lovers."

A fight brewed in James; Lily could tell by his sudden tension and the scathing look he sent Georgiana. The use of the word "Muggle lover" had set him off, though Lily wasn't sure how he could be completely unaware that his girlfriend could have adopted her family's doctrine on blood purity. As much as Lily wanted to watch the events unfold, she didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'll be in the library at ten on Saturday, Potter, if you decide to join me."

James flashed her a look as if to tell her to stop making things difficult for him. What he failed to realize was that Lily didn't care. With a smirk of satisfaction, Lily walked off and wondered how things would unfold.

* * *

When ten o'clock rolled around that Saturday and James walked into the library, Lily couldn't help but feel victorious. He looked a bit worse for wear, which she could only assume was due to Georgiana voicing her disapproval of his decision to remain behind. More importantly, he did not look happy to see her. That was a first.

Not even taking a moment to exchange pleasantries, he said, "We need to go somewhere else."

"What for? This is where we usually meet."

"Because the two of us need to talk," he explained.

Understatement of the century. Lily didn't bother to pretend otherwise and gathered up her things, following James out of the library. They walked in silence, searching for the privacy of an empty classroom.

"Have you thought of a topic yet for this essay," she asked, as they walked into a deserted room.

"No, not really," he replied, his kindness forced.

"Hmm, guess it's kind of difficult to give it any thought when your girlfriend has her tongue down your throat all the time."

His look was scathing. Lily didn't care; she'd been waiting for this moment of confrontation for almost two months now. For weeks she'd been rehearsing exactly what she was going to say to the toerag the moment she got the chance. There hadn't been any point in rehearsing though because, in her anger and sadness, she threw the script out the window.

"How about this. You could set the essay up in a how-to format and write something catchy like, 'The Pureblood's Guide to Making a Mudblood Think You Care.' Or maybe even 'Charming a Muggle-born Before You Crush Her Heart, For Beginners.' You're really well versed in those areas, after all," she suggested sarcastically, tears pooling in her eyes.

"You think I purposely led you on?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" she spat. "You spend the last few years trying to get me to go on a sodding date with you, and when I'm finally ready, you start dating someone else!"

"It didn't happen like that, Lily."

"Then enlighten me! Tell me why you started dating someone else the moment you got confirmation that I fancied you."

"Because I fancied you back, alright?"

Lily's retort, the one she'd been preparing for whatever he'd said next, died on her lips. James still fancied her? While she expected to be relieved, or even elated, Lily was more confused than before.

"That doesn't even make sense, James."

"Do you honestly think that a relationship between us would ever work?" he asked sincerely.

Why wouldn't it? Sure, they had their differences, but all couples did. And yes, they argued to the point of wanting to throw hexes at each other, but, well, that didn't mean anything. They would be fine. Probably. Maybe…

"I guess I always just assumed…"

"I don't doubt that we could have a seriously amazing sex life, Lily. And I'm the first one to admit that for all those years I spent chasing you, I had shagging on the mind. But when I got to know you, _really_ got to know you, I knew that I'd never be able—"

"—to make me your fifteen minutes in a broom cupboard," she finished for him, softly.

He nodded. "It would have been so easy to kiss you when you asked me to, but I didn't want to lead you on, knowing that any sort of romance we had would never end well. And fuck if it wasn't hard. When I left your house over the hols, I knew I had to do something, and so I decided to distract myself with Georgiana. I thought it would be best if I forced myself to move on."

"Oh…"

Silence filled the room then. Lily wasn't sure what else to say. He'd basically told her she didn't have a chance in hell with him. It was a miserable feeling knowing the one thing she wanted most, she couldn't have. Trying to just be friends was going to be incredibly difficult, but maybe with some space and a little time she could do it.

She avoided his gaze, choosing to look at anything really, so long as it wasn't James. Lily knew she should just excuse herself and leave—he probably wouldn't fault her for that—but moving seemed like such an impossible task at the moment. From the corner of her eye she saw his hands clench and unclench, and heard a heavy, miserable sigh escape his lips.

"I think about you. When I'm with her. When we're…"

Lily looked at him immediately. "What?"

"The other day…we were…and I was…I sort of said your name. You're not exactly her favorite person at the moment."

As best she could, Lily tried to fill in those blanks. He and Georgiana were doing something, and he said her name when he was… Oh, God! Her cheeks burned, probably making her face a bright cherry red.

"But you have her. Why would you want someone like me?"

"Describe someone like you," he said, disbelievingly.

"Ordinary, temperamental, a certified Charms junkie. I'll never be as pretty as her or well bred. And I'm a Mugg—"

"Stop. I've heard enough rubbish."

James approached her, and just when she thought he was going to stop, he moved closer and closer until only a small gap separated them. James cupped her chin with his hands and tilted it up so their eyes met.

"You are gorgeous, Lily Evans, far more than she could ever hope to be. You're anything but ordinary. If by Charms junkie you mean bloody brilliant witch, then I'm inclined to agree. And don't you ever, _ever_ bring up your heritage as a reason why you're inferior to someone. Blood purity means _nothing_ to me."

She struggled to hold back her tears. It was too much to manage though, and Lily broke down. James smoothed away her tears with his thumbs. No one had ever said anything so nice about her before, had ever made her feel so special. The urge to kiss him nearly overtook her senses, but she knew that it couldn't happen. Even so, that didn't mean that they couldn't address it, right?

"James?"

His expression was gentle, tender. "Hmm?"

"The other night when you were with her, when you said my name, what was she…what did you imagine _me_ doing to you?"

At first he didn't look like he was going to answer her, but then James flicked his eyes downward. Lily's breath hitched at the thought of him fantasizing about her doing that. The very idea thrilled her.

"And if you could, what would you have me do to you now?" she asked.

"I…oh, fuck, Lils…" he said, raking his eyes over her before running his hands through his hair in frustration."We have to stop this before it gets out of hand. And trust me when I say it will get out of hand. It's all I can do to deny you now."

It disappointed Lily that she wasn't going to get her answer, though she loved that just the idea of it made James squirm. She nodded in agreement with him; if he'd tried anything, she knew she'd readily let him to a point.

"Muggle Studies," he reminded both her and himself.

"Right, Muggle Studies."

* * *

It pleased Lily that things were finally back to normal between her and James, or at least as normal as they could be. He began sitting with her again in Muggle Studies and walking with her between shared classes when Georgiana wasn't around. Georgiana was, however, more often around than not. Ever since James opted to stay behind on that Hogsmeade weekend, she had barely let him out of her sight. And when she did catch James and Lily together, she threw Lily dirty looks.

Lily tried to ignore it for the most part, staying out of her way as often as she could, but it was sometimes difficult since they were both in Gryffindor. By word of mouth, she knew that Georgiana was no friend of hers, but she'd never actually heard the older girl talk about her until she was walking through the courtyard after lunch one day in late March.

"—the way she looks at James! Ugh, I would love nothing more than to use an Unforgivable on that stupid bint."

"And look who we have here, the girl herself," a girl said, and Lily recognized the voice as belonging to Georgiana's sister.

Lily turned to face them against her better judgment, tired of being talked about. Georgiana was sitting on a bench with her Slytherin sister and their mutual friends. It didn't surprise Lily that most of them carried anti-Muggle sentiments.

"I've been dying to get alone with you for weeks now, Evans," Georgiana said, approaching her. "Seems like you're sensible enough to be afraid of me."

"And why would I be afraid of you exactly?" Lily asked with bite to her words. "You're about as intimidating as a Cornish Pixie, Yaxley."

"Is that right, _Mudblood_?" she retorted, arching one finely manicured eyebrow. "I can think of several reasons why you'd want to shut that mouth of yours. My family has connections, you know."

"To the Dark Lord I'd wager."

"How dare—"

Lily pulled her wand upon seeing Georgiana's friends take a few steps in her direction. "Oh, I dare."

"Stay away from James, Evans. Or you'll regret it."

"He's my Muggle Studies partner. I can't do that as you very well know."

"You might like James, but he'd never stoop so low as to fuck a Mudblood like you. He has _some_ class. So if I so much catch you looking at him, I'm going to see to it that you live a very hard life for the rest of this school year. Someone like you can never compete with someone like me. Last warning."

Lily wanted to say something witty in return, but the only thing she could get to form on her tongue was incantations that would earn her a week's detention. Georgiana Yaxley wasn't worth her time. Turning on her heel, Lily walked away, though not before overhearing a nasty slur come from Georgiana's mouth and a chorus of laughter from her friends.

* * *

"Lily!" Annalise called, coming into their dorm. "You'll never believe it, but we actually managed a win against Ravenclaw!"

Glancing up from her diary, a genuine smile forced itself onto Lily's lips when she saw how happy Annalise was. Even she knew the prospects were grim for Gryffindor with Black serving detention for the latest Marauder prank. James was brilliant on his own, but they were an unstoppable force together.

"Brilliant."

Annalise slipped her cloak off and promptly went to the mirror to inspect her hair. "You're coming to the party in the common room, aren't you?"

"I don't know…"

As a prefect, she ought to go just to try to maintain control over the situation; she could already see McGonagall frowning at such frivolities. However, the idea of partying didn't particularly set well with her. She wasn't much of a partier anyhow, but the idea of seeing James and Georgiana celebrating together turned her off the idea completely.

"You're a complete stick in the mud, you know that?"

Another variation on being uptight? Lily would have been mad if it hadn't been for the fact that Annalise hadn't meant it. And even Lily had to admit that lately she'd been a real downer, though not without reason—reasons which Annalise was not privy too. She decided to brush the comment off.

"I'm not," Lily defended, lightly.

"Come on, I'll help you get ready. Put some curlers in your hair and rouge on your cheeks. You'll be the belle of the ball, Lil."

Lily looked down at herself, clad in her pajamas (it had been a rather long game) with limp hair and a spot on her skin. "It would take nothing short of a fairy godmother."

"Consider yourself Cinderella then," Annalise said with a smirk, surprising Lily with her recognition of the reference.

She felt all dolled up once Annalise got through with her. Curled hair put up in a twist, pink lips with eyes shadowed in greens, a short, flirty dress—Lily was impressed with her transformation. While Annalise was rubbish at Transfiguration and Herbology, she knew her glamour charms.

A wave of self consciousness crept over her as she entered the common room from the girls' dorm staircase. Most of her fellow Gryffindors were already shouting at each other over the loud music or dancing or necking. Typical Gryffindor house party.

Scanning the room for Jane or Mary, she came up with nothing. Though she did see Black in the corner with Remus, a bottle of Firewhisky in his hand. She watched amused for a few moments as the pair tried to steal a touch here and there. The next time Lily had prefect duty with Remus she would have to tease him about it.

No sooner had she located the table with the butterbeer than she felt a tap on her shoulder and someone coming to stand close next to her. James. Embarrassed, she bit down on her lip as she saw him drinking her in.

"You look beautiful tonight," he whispered, careful not to draw any unwanted attention to them. "What's the occasion?"

"Temporary insanity?" she offered with a smile. "It only lasts until midnight."

"What?" he asked, amused. "What kind of rubbish spell did you use?"

Lily waved him off. "You won't get it. It's a Muggle thing. How did you escape?"

"Butterbeer," he explained, picking up two bottles.

"Not Firewhisky like Black?"

James smirked. "Private stash in the dorm for the after party."

"Am I invited?" she questioned, flirtatiously.

"Always. Just don't get caught by my girlfriend."

As if he'd jinxed it by bringing her up in title, the room quieted down and Georgiana hopped up onto a table and began speaking. She went on about Quidditch and the game, the amazing job the players did, but Lily cared about none of it. James was next to her, the fabric of his shirt brushing against her arm heightening her awareness of him. That was, of course, until Georgiana called up "our Captain, James" and demanded a celebratory kiss.

Lily couldn't stomach watching that kiss among the cat calls. Already well aware that it would be far from a quick peck on the cheek, there was no point. Georgiana would kiss him full on the mouth, her hands roaming up and down his back, and James would respond the way any teenage boy would—with complete abandon.

Realizing that this whole party was a horrible mistake, Lily fought her way through the throng of Gryffindors dancing to a new, upbeat song. Just before she climbed up the steps, she took a look back at the crowd, spotting James dancing with Georgiana.

They were kissing, and quite nearly rubbing against each other, Georgiana's hands toying with the hair at the back of James' neck and James' ghosting his hands along her waist and arse. Just before she turned to leave, James' eye caught hers and he stared at her for a long moment, almost pained. She knew what he was thinking, remembering his words clearly: _When I'm with her, I think about you_.

.

As soon as Lily locked the door to the dormitory, she threw off her clothes and put on an oversized tee shirt to sleep in. With a flick of her wand, Lily put out the lights, cast a silencing charm, and drew her bed curtains.

Swaddled in complete darkness and silence, her thoughts returned to James and the way he moved against Georgiana, the way he wanted to move against _her_. James' hands, calloused from Quidditch with elegant fingers, running over her bare skin, unbuttoning her button up, unclasping her bra, cupping and squeezing her breasts.

Her hand moved beneath her shirt, tweaking and tugging at her nipples. It was hardly a good substitute for James' hand, but just knowing that he thought about doing this to her, that he probably wanked to it, was enough to allow her imagination morph the situation so that reality dipped into fantasy.

James was there with her, lying behind her, his mouth hot against her exposed neck. She could imagine his kisses, the feel of his teeth nipping at her skin as he massaged her breast. Her sex was tingling uncomfortably then. And the thought of his erection pressed against her leg made wetness pool between her thighs.

What was once tingling became full throbbing at the thought of him pushing inside of her. The friction of rubbing her legs together was no longer enough to sate her, and so she slipped her fingers—_his_ fingers—beneath her knickers, dipping into wet warmth. He explored her, hit that spot that she loved so much over and over and over again until it was maddening. His thumb was meanwhile rubbing against her clit, sending her into sensation overload.

She could feel the pressure building within her, every touch pushing her that much closer to the edge. Lily panted into her pillow, eyes shut tight, her world revolving around James in that one moment when she reached her peak. She moaned his name as she rode the spasms out. As reality came rushing back to her, when her fingers suddenly became her own again, Lily felt so empty she could cry.

* * *

"I think," Lily began, "that you're sitting under my tree."

What had been a beautiful Spring day had become all the better when she found James in her usual haunt on the Hogwarts grounds. He turned his head towards her, the smile on his lips making her heart race. So much for reading.

"Since when is this your tree? I don't see a name on it."

"You know very well, James Potter, that this is my spot."

He shrugged and patted the grass next to him, inviting her to sit. After surveying their surroundings to find no Georgiana in sight, Lily obliged him. She sat close, probably far too close for just a "friend," but James didn't seem to mind.

"So what are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Trying to come up with some strategies for the next match. Hufflepuff's team is _really_ good. We might not win the cup this year."

"I've faith in you."

He bumped his shoulder into hers, grinning. "Thanks. And what brings you out on this fine day?"

Lily held up a well worn paperback. "Reading."

"Pride and Prejudice," he read. "What sort of rubbish book is that?"

"It's not rubbish," Lily countered. "It's _Austin_."

"Well pardon me."

"This book could have been written about the two of us, you know."

"Yeah? And do we get our happy ending then?" he joked.

Lily nodded. "We do, though not without wading through a bunch of shite first."

James laughed. "Sounds about right."

Lily noticed him drop his hand near her own, but despite knowing that, she'd nearly jumped when his fingers brushed hers. They lingered there for a moment until Lily spread her fingers, allowing James to intertwine his with hers. It was all a slow process, filled with hesitation, but when Lily met his warm eyes, she knew she wouldn't let go of his hand for the world.

"You make it so hard to just be friends, Lily. You're brilliant and beautiful, and I just can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try."

He reached out, slipping a lock of her hair behind her ear. His fingers skimmed over the line of her jaw, making it suddenly difficult for her to breathe. Turned towards each other, their bodies were oh-so-close. She could feel herself being pulled towards him and wondered, for the first time, if it wasn't their own magic drawing them to one another.

"Kiss me," she begged.

James nodded, but Lily never knew the touch of his lips. She recoiled, her hand, the one intertwined with James', felt aflame. The pain raced up her arm and across the right side of her chest. Lily'd never quite felt pain like this—searing and maddening—and it was only getting progressively worse.

"You filthy fucking Mudblood!"

Georgiana, her wand pointed at Lily, looked perfectly murderous. James was on his feet in an instant. Lily tried to join him, but whatever had hit her made it impossible.

"Don't call her that," James warned.

"She has you under some sort of love spell, I know it. You'd never lower yourself to her level otherwise."

"I'm not under any sort of spell, Georgiana."

She looked at him disgusted. "So you actually fancy the Mudblood back?"

"I told you not to say that word!" he shouted, and Lily knew it was taking all the self restraint he had not to draw his wand on Georgiana. "And I never pegged you for a Muggle-hater, but I guess it does run in the family. Silly me."

"How could _you_ of all people—a pure-blood—be in support of Muggles and Mudbloods? They're barely human, James, and they certainly don't deserve a place in our society. We'd be better off with them dead so they don't pollute our blood lines. Surely you understand that."

Lily wanted to disbelieve was she was hearing, but the fact of the matter was she'd heard those sentiments so many times before that it didn't surprise her. Everyone would be better off if she were dead, would they? How she tired of hearing it.

"Get out of here," James ordered, his voice low and threatening.

"My pleasure. As if I'd want to be seen with the likes of you, blood traitor." Georgiana turned her attention to Lily. "And _you_, I warned you to stay out of my way. You're going to regret not taking my advice."

With that, Georgiana stormed off, and James stood ridged in front of Lily until she was out of sight. Falling to his knees, he reached for her arm, which was throbbing and now covered with blackened veins.

"I think it was a stinging jinx," she said, wincing as he examined it.

James shook his head. "No, she's cursed you. We need to get you to Pomfrey straight away."

The urgency in his voice frightened her. "Am I going to be alright?"

"It's Dark Magic, love. I can't say for sure, but I know you need a healer. Things like this can get serious very quickly."

James helped her up, and she tried to gain control of her legs. The throbbing was spreading down her side now, making it difficult to keep herself steady. The uncertainty of her ability to walk obvious, James slung her arm around his neck and grabbed her around the waist. Every few steps the pain grew worse, and Lily feared whatever magic it was, it was traveling through her blood.

"You're going to be okay, Lily. I promise you."


	6. A Change in the Status Quo

**Warning:** As I mentioned in Chapter 1, there is slight non-con in this fic that occurs in this last chapter.

* * *

**VI. A Change in the Status Quo**

Two weeks after her altercation with Georgiana, Lily's spell-damaged arm still hadn't fully recovered. James had been right when he'd said she'd been hit with some sort of Dark Magic, and because of the nature of the spell, the healing process had been painfully slow. Final exams would be impossible in her current state, so Lily was spending as much of her free time as possible practicing her spellwork in empty classrooms.

She was having a particularly difficult time of it that night, her erratic wand motions conjuring up unintended spells. As one last Summoning Charm back fired on her, Lily decided that she'd had enough for now. Wincing, she lowered her over-worked arm, cradling it against her stomach with her other hand. Lily was exhausted, and being that it was nearly after hours, she should start back towards Gryffindor Tower anyway.

Going anywhere these past couple weeks had been nothing short of dreadful. Making enemies of one of the most popular girls in school hadn't been a wise idea, as Georgiana—recently returned from her two week suspension–had no qualms with dreaming up vicious rumors about Lily and spreading them through the school. As if being on the receiving end of Muggle-born hate hadn't been enough, she'd now become a target.

Walking past someone and hearing them mutter "slag," or "whore," or "Mudblood" had become so normal that she stopped confronting them about it. And slurs were far better anyway than being spat at, which had also become commonplace. Being tripped, shoved, and hexed throughout the day also occurred. It made getting out of bed in the morning unbearable.

Lily climbed the stairs to her dorm, ignoring the dirty looks and whispers from several of her own house mates. It neared dinnertime, but she didn't think she'd be able to go to the Great Hall. Her appetite had left her shortly after this school wide hazing had begun.

As she turned the corner at the staircase to her dorm, Lily nearly ran into Annalise. Jane stood in the doorway of their room, a grave expression on her face. Looking back to Annalise, Lily saw that her expression matched Jane's to perfection.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked, taking a step towards the dorm.

"Don't!" Annalise shouted, grabbing her arm. "Lily, don't."

"Mary's gone to get Professor McGonagall."

If they thought they were succeeding in making her want to stay in the stairwell with them, they were sorely mistaken. Lily shrugged off Annalise and evaded Jane's grasp. As soon as she entered the room, however, she wished she hadn't.

Things—_her_ things—were scattered all over the place, shattered and torn and snapped. Her bed hangings had been assaulted with _Incendio_. As Lily stepped closer to her bed, she saw that the word "Mudblood" had been burned into her four poster's head board.

It was as if she'd been thrown into the middle of a nightmare. Her blood pumped loudly in her ears to the point where it was deafening. Lily felt utterly numb except for a sudden and violent churning in her stomach. She covered her mouth and fumbled towards the loo, but she didn't make it in time. Falling to her knees, she vomited on the floor and began to sob. She wasn't safe anywhere anymore.

* * *

Lily had expected things to get worse after word spread about what had happened in her dormitory. It surprised her, then, when students who had once thought ill of her were suddenly coming up to her in the corridors and at meal times to express their sympathy. And of course those who were like her—Muggle-borns who had faced similar things themselves—went out of their way to support her.

Unfortunately there were still those who thought that she'd gotten what she deserved, but they only made up a small percentage of the student body. Professors and the Headmaster alike had always made it clear that such outlandish behavior would not be tolerated, but after what happened to Lily, punishments became far more severe. Getting caught hazing a fellow student would result in immediate suspension and permanent expulsion would be pursed through the appropriate channels.

In the few days after the dorm incident, Lily had been hesitant to leave the newly password protected room. Annalise, Jane, and Mary had all volunteered to walk with her so she'd never be alone. And James? Well, he'd been nothing short of wonderful. He'd sat with her in the library and strolled with her around the grounds. When the final Hogsmeade weekend came around in May, James had offered to escort her. She'd declined, not feeling entirely up for it, and so he'd surprised her when he returned with a small bag full of sweets and chocolates from Honeydukes.

Slowly Lily had worked up the courage to start her prefect duties again. Initially she feared making those rounds, but she eased into the patrols first with Remus and then with the other prefects. When patrolling with Remus, Lily didn't have to concern herself with being alone outside of the common room, and with Gretchen—her other regular, prefect partner—she would only have a short walk alone.

This night in particular Gretchen had joined her for the rounds, and Lily was heading back to her dorm after a rather uneventful evening. The thought of walking by herself didn't frighten her too much, but her senses worked in overdrive. Thinking she heard footsteps, Lily spun around. But she didn't see a thing. Maybe it was just her imagination, or perhaps Peeves was up to no good further down the corridor.

Still, she was unnerved. Lily picked up her pace, but no sooner had she started walking than she felt a hand clamp over her mouth, stifling her scream. She was shoved violently into an empty classroom, hitting her hip against the wooden desk and wincing. In front of the door stood Mulciber, blocking her only escape route. Lily knew she was in serious trouble.

Reaching into her robes, Lily grabbed for her wand only to find it wasn't there. Her eyes searched for it on the floor in a panic. A chuckle escaped Mulciber's lips, and Lily feared what she would see.

"Looking for this, Mudblood?" he jeered, holding her wand.

Lily fought against her weakening legs to remain standing. Pain blossomed on her hip where she'd fallen into the desk, causing her to favor her one leg considerably. Alone, injured, and without a wand, her mind grasped for an escape plan. Her heart pounded in her chest, feeling as if it might break through it at any moment. She knew that look in his eyes—one reflecting pure disgust of her and pleasure in what he was about to do to her.

As Mulciber took a step towards her, Lily's fight or flight response kicked in, sending her scuttling as far away from him as she could get—which she discovered wasn't far at all. She tripped as her injured leg gave out on her. Mulciber was on top of her in an instant, grabbing at her cloak to hoist her up. She managed to slip out of it in time and crawled surprisingly quickly to the corner of the room.

Her lungs ached from her heavy breathing—an unfortunate result from the pain in her leg and her fight to break free of him. The doorway, Lily noticed, was clear now, but she doubted she'd be able to reach it with Mulciber having the clear advantage over her. She didn't even have an opportunity to contemplate how she'd escape before Mulciber took her violently by the upper arm, breaking her skin under his strong fingers.

She screamed as he threw her against the wall—her head coming in brutal contact with the stone wall—or at least she had thought she'd screamed, but she couldn't hear her own voice. Lily opened her mouth again. No sound. Mulciber smiled wickedly at her.

Until that moment the adrenaline in her veins had been masking her fear, but no longer. She began to shake, hot tears streaming freely down her cheeks. He had silently cast _Silencio_ on her and now no one would hear her cries—her pleas—for help.

Mulciber pushed his face right up to hers, his sour breath filling her nostrils. The final straw snapped, she dry heaved, and honestly wished she could have vomited to relieve the intense discomfort in her stomach.

"Fucking Mudblood," he spat. "Causing so much trouble for everyone. What you did to Yaxley, thinking that you had the right to the same things she did…the example you set for filth like yourself…did you really think we were just going to let you get away with it?"

The prospect of what was going to happen to her—assault, murder, or worse—was consuming Lily's mind, making all other thoughts impossible. She didn't want this—couldn't let him do this to her. But what could she do to stop it? There was no way out.

She mouthed "please," hoping in vain that he would take mercy on her.

Mulciber sneered. "What was that? I can't hear you."

He grabbed her shirt and pulled, causing the fabric to rip free of the buttons and reveal part of her bra. Lily opened her mouth; had she had a voice, it would have sounded like a wail. Mulciber was going rape her, punish her for her insolence like that and leave her alive to face the humility of it all.

Lily had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in her life. She waited, almost limply, the tears in her eyes suddenly staunched. Any moment now he'd be groping at her breasts, shoving his fingers violently between her legs—or worse thrusting himself inside of her, delivering a maddening sort of pain that would split her in half.

But what did any of that matter now? Lily was already helplessly violated and broken. She couldn't stop him—she had no wand and he was three times her size—and so she would try to let her mind escape from the present to a much better place.

She thought of her parents. Her sweet and bubbly mother who always knew how to make the things alright again with a glass of warm milk and some biscuits. Her jovial, sports fanatic father who kicked the football around the backyard with her on summer holiday and had taken her shopping for the dress she wore on her very first date.

Petunia was with her too. Ever the bossy, overbearing big sister. Lily knew she cared though; she wouldn't have beaten up that boy who pulled Lily's hair on the playground when she was four otherwise. Petunia wouldn't have spent a week of winter holiday two years ago teaching her how to put on cosmetics the Muggle way if she didn't love her. Suddenly Lily really wanted her big sister there. Petunia Evans was a force to be reckoned with.

Lastly there was James, who would probably still want her even if she'd been raped. Denying him all these years had been perfectly stupid of her. He was such a caring, decent boy, who would have devoted himself to her utterly. She remembered that night of flying; she'd thought it'd been horrible until that very moment. Now it suddenly became a safe place—his hand wrapped around her middle, his wild hair tickling her cheek, those full lips ready to kiss her, his kind words.

Lily's eyes flew open.

His words.

_You don't trust in your magic enough_.

Just because she didn't have a _wand_ didn't mean she didn't have _magic_.

Lily turned to the monster that held her fast, stared right into his wicked eyes—an act that was incredibly empowering. She was not weak. She was a _witch_, and a fucking good one, too. She would be damned before she let someone like _him_ break her spirit, turn her world upside down.

She willed her magic to focus on Mulciber, willed it to send him flying across the room. It wasn't working…it wasn't working... And then there was the almost electrical charge in the air. Magic. _Her_ magic. There was a _whoosh_ and a crashing sound. Opening her eyes, she saw Mulciber lying in a heap of broken desks and chairs, disoriented.

Not daring to get close enough to him to retrieve her wand, Lily tore out of the room and down the corridor as fast as her legs would take her. It amazed her that she could even run; she knew if she were to try to stand her legs would give out. As she was coming out of the corridor into an open area, she saw someone standing in the middle of it. It was a familiar face. _Remus_.

For once she thanked God for all their afterhours' mischief making. When Remus heard her footfalls, he looked up, eyes widening.

"Lily?"

Her voice was still silenced, so she couldn't answer him. Instead, she grabbed hold of him, willing him to understand that something was very wrong. She gestured wildly at her throat, and Remus cast the counter charm immediately.

"Remus…_please_…"

Lily couldn't manage any more than that. Remus put one arm around her protectively, and with the other, pulled out what looked to be a mirror.

"James? Sirius?" he called into the mirror.

"Moony?" It was Sirius.

"Abort the plan."

"What happened?" James.

"I said abort the plan," he ordered, firmly. "Meet me at our rendezvous point. And don't waste any time."

"And Wormtail?"

"He'll see you moving on the map and come. Don't worry."

Remus slipped the mirror back into his pocket. Lily's eyes kept darting towards the corridor, but there was no sign of Mulciber. If he were going to pursue her, he would have shown up already. While she expected that to provide her with some comfort, it didn't.

When Lily heard footsteps, she went rigid. It sounded as if it were coming from the wall, and judging from Remus' calm look in that direction, that was the most natural thing in the world. But the tapestry was drawn back in an instant and out came James and Black.

They both appeared a bit nervous, and given Remus' cryptic instructions, it was no surprise why. However two pairs of eyes fell on her at once, both widening in confusion. Black immediately sought out Remus for an explanation, but James' line of sight never left her.

A rush of relief passed through her, and she stepped away from Remus in an instant, quickly seeking the comfort of James' arms. He clutched her to him, holding her as if her life depended on it, and in a small way, Lily felt it did.

"What the fuck happened, Remus?" James asked, his voice harsh.

"She just came running from the corridor."

Another set of footsteps sounded through the room, and then, "What happened to the plan?"

"Never mind now, Pete," Black said.

James rested his cheek against her forehead and swallowed hard. "Lily, love."

"Mulciber."

He pulled her away from him gently, carefully looking over her. When his eyes fell on her hand clutching her torn shirt together, he looked a mix of both afraid and angry.

"Lily, did he try to…"

She thought back to what had transpired. "He tried." Tears began to well in her eyes. "I stopped him before it got any farther than a torn shirt."

Lily buried her face against James' neck and tried to control her cries. In all honesty, she thought she was doing a decent job of it. When she considered it, she'd gotten off lucky with only a few bumps and bruises and a ruined shirt. Not that that would keep the nightmares away, though.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Black said.

"No, we're going to McGonagall and Dumbledore," James replied.

* * *

When Lily walked down the steps from Dumbledore's office, four sets of eyes were on her. She smiled weakly, very grateful for their dedication to her after what had happened. James stood up first and approached her.

"How it go?"

"As expected. Mulciber is going to be suspended, and Dumbledore's going to do everything in his power to expel him from Hogwarts. Charges will be pressed, but…"

James stared at her. "But?"

"He warned me that justice might not be served. A lot of people on the Governing Board of Hogwarts—the people who get the final say in expulsions—aren't likely to rule in my favor. And as for the Ministry, we've all heard how corrupt it's become."

Her words seemed to surprise everyone but Remus. Of course, he'd been facing the injustice of the Ministry for years now. Perhaps this was just one more way in which they understood one another.

"I won't let that happen," James said, blindly determined. "My family has connections, Lily, and I'll do whatever it takes to give Mulciber what he has coming."

"I'll see what I can do too," Sirius added. "Even we disowned Blacks hold some sway over important people."

"Thank you so much both of you… _all_ of you. You really didn't have to wait on me. It's late."

"Of course we had to wait on you, Evans. Do you honestly think we'd leave you to yourself after all you've been through tonight?" Peter asked.

Infallibly kind Peter. She grinned softly, thanking him for his words. And then Sirius swung his arm across her shoulders, giving her some line about escorts and walking her back to the Tower. James, in a fit of jealousy, grabbed Remus' hand. Sirius just snorted and shook his head.

Lily wondered how even after something so terrible, something that shook her very foundations, she could be so comfortable. It wouldn't last, she knew. These were only a brief few minutes of reprieve, but she cherished them. How these four boys—two that had annoyed her for five years, one who she knew very little of, and one who had been her dear friend—could work their magic on her, she would never know.

* * *

When they reached the common room, Sirius removed his arm from her shoulders to return to Remus' side. Both Remus and Peter were already inching towards the boys' dorms, but James remained planted next to her.

Lily gazed at the staircase to her own room, and the idea of having to walk in there, of having to answer uncomfortable questions about her bruises, left Lily vastly uncomfortable. There was no way she would be able to sleep there.

"Should I walk you to the stairs or something?" James offered.

She shook her head. "No, I think I'll stay down here for a bit."

"You should get some sleep, Evans," Peter said.

"I just…" She shifted uncomfortably.

"You know, Lily," Remus began, "I could really use some help with my Charms essay, and it might take all night to get through it."

"Moony, way to be tactful," James scolded, apparently missing Remus' intentions entirely.

Lily, however, had known Remus long enough to understand what he'd meant by it. This had nothing to do with Charms essays. It was an invitation, an invitation that would ensure that she didn't have to face anyone in the next twelve hours who didn't know about what had transpired tonight, an invitation to a safe haven.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He held out his hand. "If you can tolerate this lot, then yes."

.

Even having been friends with Remus since second year, Lily had never been in his room. It wasn't shocking to find that their dorm looked very much lived in by a group of seventeen year old boys. If she'd separated it into four parts, three of those parts would be littered with clothes, books, quills, Quidditch supplies, and snacks. The other fourth—Remus' fourth—was tidy to a fault.

"Sorry for the mess," James said sheepishly.

He quickly strode over to his bed, pushing the clothes off of it as well as several magazines. James spread the blankets out in some semblance of neatness and then turned to face her.

"You can have a seat if you'd like."

"Thanks."

"Help yourself to the loo too," Peter offered. "Remus just Scourgified it the other day. Though I can't promise the seat is down."

"Would you like to shower, Lily?" Remus asked.

God, yes. She knew what had happened wouldn't wash away in the shower as if it were dirt, but Lily desired to give it a try. Not to mention that she desperately wanted to assess the bruises on her arms, legs, and the side of her forehead.

"Yeah, that would be great if it isn't too much trouble."

Remus began digging through his wardrobe drawers. "Here, let me get you a towel and flannel."

"And Sirius has this dodgey shampoo and soap that smells like flowers," James added.

"It doesn't smell like _flowers_. I've told you a thousand times, Prongs, it's _vanilla_."

"Still makes you a poof for using it," James countered.

Sirius looked at him pointedly. "Well if the shoe fits…"

"Oi, it's a bit late for bickering," Peter said from his bed. "Get Evans the stuff, will you, Pads?"

While Sirius began to dig through his trunk, Lily realized that she was going to need something to wear to bed as well. She wanted out of her clothes; they could be burned for all she cared.

"James, could I borrow something to sleep in?"

Soon she was loaded up with toiletries and a fresh change of clothes and headed towards the adjoining bath. Locking the door behind her, she stripped off her clothing, minding the tender and discolored patches of flesh.

The shower soothed the aches that had begun to set into her body but didn't do a thing to ease her mind of the evening's events. As Lily set out to wash her arms, tears rushed to her eyes. She hadn't been alone before, hadn't had the time replay the nights' events over in her head—the fear, the pain, the anguish. But when thought about what had happened in that classroom, a floodgate opened.

She sobbed—a full on, bring her to her knees and wrack her body cry. Someone had hated one small, insignificant aspect of her life so much—the blood in her veins and the magic it'd carried—that he had allowed himself to see her as nothing more than a thing. And he'd tried to make her feel like she was a _thing_. He loathed her so much that he wanted to ruin her, force her to never trust being alone with a man again. Mulciber had made an honest attempt at stealing her happiness, her future, and her right to feel safe. With that knowledge racing through her mind, she spent a full fifteen minutes at the bottom of the shower stall, losing herself entirely.

.

When Lily finally gained some semblance of self control, she stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. Her whole face was puffy, her eyes bloodshot. The boys would know what she'd been doing in the shower and Lily couldn't hide it. She just prayed that they wouldn't bring it up.

Lily padded back into the room, and everyone fell into silence. Remus and Sirius were lounging on Remus' bed while Peter sat on his. James was standing, arms folded across his chest. Their faces all shared the same look of concern.

"Are you alright, Lily?" Peter asked.

"Obviously you're not. It's just that…we heard…in the shower. We weren't trying to listen," Sirius added, and that was probably the first time he ever sounded inelegant.

"If you want to talk," James offered.

Biting down on her lip, Lily fought off another slew of tears. After that round in the bath, she hadn't thought she'd be able to cry anymore, but apparently she was wrong. She saw the look of panic on Sirius' face as he glanced at James, seemingly begging him to make her feel better. What James' expression was in response, she couldn't say. Lily buried her face in her hands before she ever saw it, willing herself to stop getting so upset.

It was Remus' arms around her then, not James'—she could tell because Remus has a distinctly different smell. He held her to him, smoothing her hair and not saying a word. Lily felt comforted by Remus, felt like she could tell him anything because he'd been around so long that she thought of him as another girlfriend almost.

"I was so scared," she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest.

"It'll take time for that to go away, Lily. It does fade though, eventually. Never completely, but it will get better," he assured her.

"I want it to go away now."

"It can't. But you know what _will_ make you feel a bit better straight away?"

She looked up at him, seeing him smile at her. "Huh?"

"Ice cream. Chocolate ice cream with bits of brownie mixed in. And it tastes extra good if you demand Sirius to go down to the kitchens and fetch it for you. I speak from experience here."

Lily laughed then; she still felt horrible, but Remus had a way of enabling her to push that aside if only for a little while. Ice cream did sound wonderful—a favorite fix of all the women in her family when they had sorrows to wallow in. And sorrows? She had them.

"Go on, give it a try," he said, shifting them towards Sirius.

"Sirius?" she asked, hoping he would go for her.

"No, no. You have to boss him."

"And we know you're good at being bossy, Evans," James added in.

Lily let out a strangled laugh; they were really all quite mad. "Sirius Black, I demand you go get me Chocolate Brownie ice cream."

"Immediately," Remus coached.

"Immediately."

Sirius was all smiles, slipping off the bed with the fluidity of a cat. "It would be my pleasure."

"Remus has him thoroughly whipped," Peter said. "It's embarrassing really."

Sirius tossed what looked to be a special sort of cloak at Peter. "Oi! For that, you're coming with me."

.

Remus had been right about the ice cream—it had made her feel a bit better. At times that evening she'd felt like she'd never be really happy in a long while, but sitting around the floor with the boys had put her in good spirit.

After taking her final bite of ice cream and setting her bowl down, Lily pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter. James had dared to put an arm around her, sidling up close against her as Sirius carried on about their next big prank. Lily snuggled against him, resting her head against his shoulder and listened, amused.

"I'm telling you, adding in the Doxy eggs will give it that extra something," Sirius said.

"You're barking. Mixing the eggs in with the Ashwinder wings won't allow the ingredients to cohere properly. There'll be an explosion, and you _know_ how hard it is to deny involvement when you're covered in goo," Peter explained.

"What do you know, Pete? You're rubbish at Potions," Sirius countered.

"You'd be rubbish at _brewing_ potions too if you were color blind. But I understand the theory quite well, or need I remind you about that time in fourth year—"

"No!" Sirius interrupted, blushing. "No, I don't need reminded."

"What happened in fourth year?" Lily asked, looking at James.

"James," Sirius warned.

James was chuckling to himself. "Old Padfoot here had a thing for Lydie Collins back then and tried to slip her a love potion, as she wouldn't give him the time of day—being Slytherin and all. Sirius tried to knick the proper ingredients from Slughorn's stores, but he was out of some of them. So Pete and Sirius spent the next week and a half coming up with other ingredients that would cohere the same way. The effects love potion lasted for two months from the concoction they brewed."

Remus looked at Sirius incredulously. "You _fancied_ Lydie Collins? How was I not aware of this?"

"Because _you_ were dating Elliah Wilkinson then and spent all of your waking hours shoved in a broom cupboard with him," Peter answered.

It was Remus' turn to blush. "Oh, right. Well. Still. Lydie Collins?"

"Elliah Wilkinson?" Sirius returned, scoffing.

"You can't even compare Elliah to Lydie."

Sirius sighed. "Point. Lydie was fucking obnoxious. And, admittedly, Elliah has a fine arse. You win this one, love."

Sirius leaned over, planting a kiss on Remus' lips. And now Lily was the one blushing; she'd never seen them do that before. It was apparently normal though, as James was laughing and gave a whistle. Peter shook his head, rolling his eyes.

James pulled Lily tight against him in a sort of half hug. "Now that you're all filled with ice cream, why don't we get you to bed? I'm exhausted myself."

"That's because it's three in the morning," Peter said.

No wonder she felt so tired. Despite her exhaustion, Lily wasn't sure she'd be able to fall asleep, wasn't sure if she _wanted_ to fall asleep. It would be nothing short of a miracle if she didn't have bad dreams tonight.

"Sirius had decided to be all self sacrificing and give up his bed to sleep with Moony," James explained. "You can sleep in mine. I just changed the linens while you were in the shower." Remus cleared his throat, having broken away from Sirius' kiss. "Alright, Moony changed the linens."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

James nodded. "Sleep well, yeah? I'll put an extra silencing charm up around Padfoot and Moony tonight."

Sirius promptly threw a pillow at James, which James immediately returned.

.

In between the bouts of inky blackness, nightmares rose. She would be running around a classroom and some faceless figure would be chasing her, grabbing at her. In those brief moments of light sleep, the times when the nightmares were especially vivid, she recalled tossing and turning. And then there was a soothing hand on her brow and a voice—James—telling her it was just a dream.

.

A crash sounded through the room and then a curse. Lily stirred, sunshine nearly blinding her sensitive eyes. Groping about the bed, the knowledge that she wasn't in her own room pierced her. But then she recalled the previous nights' events and remembered sleeping in James' room.

"Sorry," James said as she sat up in his bed. "I didn't mean to be so loud."

Ignoring him for a moment, Lily looked around to find that they were alone in the room. "Where is everyone?"

"They've gone to breakfast. I'm surprised you didn't wake up earlier. Padfoot isn't known to be quiet in the mornings."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"Bit obvious, isn't it?" he said.

Lily swung her legs over the side of the bed, and James came to join her. There wasn't much she could say to him; she'd never be able to express her gratitude enough for all that he'd done for her. It scared her how she'd gone from hating the very sight of him to feeling safe only in his arms. What exactly did that mean for her?

James brushed her hair behind her shoulder. "I'm sorry you've had such a shitty year."

"Yeah, me too," she said weakly.

"It'll get better, Lily," he assured, but Lily wasn't sure what world he was living in. "We'll make seventh year a good one, alright?"

He extended his pinky finger to her, wanting to make a promise. While Lily was touched by the gesture, she knew that she might not be able to make good on their little agreement. Muggle-borns were leaving the school every month because of what was happening to them. Lily never thought she'd count herself among their number, but last night changed a lot.

"I don't know if I'm coming back next year, James," Lily whispered.

She expected some form of retaliation from him, but the only thing that escaped his lips was a miserable, "Oh." His hand fell limply to the bed and their promise to one another with it.

"You must think I'm such a coward."

James shook his head. "You're the bravest girl I know. I just…this is what they want."

"I know."

"It'll be lonely here without you. I'm so used to our Muggle Studies meetings that I…I'm going to miss you."

She looked at him. "I'm going to miss you too. I mean, I haven't decided for sure if I'm leaving, but if I did, I would. Miss you."

"Well there's always the post. You'll write to me, won't you?"

"Yes, of course, James, but I'm not sure I'm—"

"It's really strange, thinking you have another year with someone before saying goodbye. But school lets out in two weeks, and I might never…" He reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. "I might never see you again. I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye, Lily."

"Not goodbye, James. _Never_ goodbye," she promised. "Just…maybe 'see you around'."

She felt miserable when she considered never seeing James again, never feeling the gravitational pull between them. But no matter her decision, she would have to meet up with him. He meant far too much to her to ever completely say goodbye to the Wizarding world.

Lily rested her head against his shoulder and thought back to everything Hogwarts had given her—knowledge, self-understanding, friendship, excitement, and perhaps maybe even love. The idea of giving all that up was unbearable, but her very life might depend on it. She would have to cherish every moment of these last few weeks just in case.

* * *

"Can't we make a conscious decision to procrastinate and go outside?" James asked, tipping back on his chair and staring at his Muggle Studies notes as if they were a whale requiring transfiguration into a Knut.

Admittedly, studying did seem rather daunting, even to Lily. It was a picturesque June day, and they'd spent the entirety of the last week taking examinations. The only one that remained was Muggle Studies, which she could definitely pass on her own with little effort. James, however, for all he was able to bull shite, wouldn't without studying.

"No, James."

"But we've been at this for hours!"

"For _an_ hour, you mean."

"But it feels like ages. I need a break."

Lily would regret ever agreeing to it, but James was completely rubbish when he couldn't focus. And he definitely couldn't focus right then. Casting a quick bookmarking charm before closing her book, she sighed and looked at him.

"Alright, break time."

"I could kiss you right now," he said, completely elated.

"Don't get too excited. You've only got ten minutes."

Lily watched him ponder what to do with his ten glorious minutes of freedom. The list would have been a short one for anyone else but him. She could only imagine what was going through his head.

"I've been meaning to talk to you."

Ten minutes and he wanted to have a conversation with her? "About?"

"The dance."

Lily groaned. "James."

"What? It's an annual _tradition_."

"It's only been an annual tradition for two years," she reminded.

"Go with me, Lily?"

Despite the fact that she thought the dance was silly and a complete waste of her time in years past, she'd nearly agreed to it right then. One night with James all to herself—dancing and touching and flirting. She'd longed for such an opportunity for months. But she'd promised that she wouldn't put herself in a position where someone could slip something in her drink or catch her alone, not after what had happened.

"Sorry, James," she said, unable to look him in the eye.

He sighed. "You don't fancy me anymore then?"

"Of course, I still fancy you! I'm just not going."

"Are you sure?" he asked, defeated.

Lily nodded. "I am. But you should definitely go. And take someone, will you?"

He struggled with the idea; she saw it in his eyes. They weren't dating and they'd never talked about doing so in the future, but they both knew that there was something unavoidable between them. James didn't want to take anyone else, even if Lily asked him to.

"Let's just get back to studying, yeah?"

* * *

By the time the evening of the dance rolled around, Lily was happy to discover that James had decided to take someone after all. She wasn't jealous when the-girl-in-question turned out to be the Captain of Hufflepuff's Quidditch team. Victoria was sweet and pretty and a half-blood. It shamed Lily to admit that that last little bit of information was important to her.

She sat in the common room, curled up on the sofa with another Austin novel and glancing up every time someone came down from the dormitories. Everyone dressed splendidly, and there were plenty of gold and red gowns to be had. Lily admired some and thought of her own dress, perfectly white, hanging in her wardrobe.

When James walked downstairs, Lily thought she had quite possibly fallen in love all over again. He looked dashing in his dress robes, even with his hair a muss, and judging from the smug expression on his face, he knew it.

"What do you think, Lily?" he asked, moving his arms to his sides so she had an open view of him.

Smirking, she shrugged and returned to her book.

Lily felt the sofa cushion sink down next to her. "Come on, Lily. Tell me I'm handsome. Tell me I'm irresistible."

Lily glanced up over the pages. "Perhaps if you'd managed to get your hair to lie flat, you might have stolen a heart or two. But as it stands now, Potter, you haven't a chance."

He gave her a playful push and left her to her reading. She was perfectly content with that, with not going to the dance. Or, at least she was for a little while.

An hour after the festivities had begun, however, Lily realized how miserable she was being the only person not in the Great Hall. It was her last night of sixth year, maybe even her last night _ever_ at Hogwarts, and she was spending it alone.

Not ten minutes after having come to that conclusion, Lily had her gown on, her heels strapped, and a simple glamour on her face, fully prepared to make tonight memorable.

.

Music blasted through the corridors as she made her way down the staircase to the Great Hall. It surprised her at first that the professors would ever allow it to get so loud. But then again, this dance was about letting students forget about the world looming outside of Hogwarts' walls. For tonight, they could be normal teenagers.

Pausing before she got too close, Lily leaned into the window arch and thought about what she was doing. She didn't want to walk in late and make a spectacle of herself. Well, she didn't want to make a spectacle of herself at _all_, especially not after being the center of attention for weeks following the Mulciber incident. Then again, would anyone even notice her arrival? Judging from the music and talking, it was unlikely.

The most important thing, and the very reason why she opted out of attending in the first place, was that Lily feared those select few students in there who might try to make her last night miserable. They probably wouldn't even notice her, too busy absorbed in themselves and their friends. There was always that possibility though, and it was that possibility that frightened her.

"Thought you weren't coming."

Lily looked up to see James standing just two steps below her. "I wasn't. How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I was actually coming back to Gryffindor Tower to sit with you."

"What about Victoria?"

"Turns out the bloke she fancies had an open dance card, so I told her to go for it." He motioned towards the dance. "It was fun while it lasted and all, but you know what they say: a party isn't a party without Lily Evans."

"Oh yeah? Is that what they say?" she asked, amused.

"They do."

He climbed to two steps, closing the distance between them. This closeness had become familiar over the past couple weeks—leaning heads on shoulders, standing side by side, even the occasional holding of hands. It was progress in Lily's book; she just didn't know what it was progress _towards_.

But as James stood in front of her, his eyes locked on hers, Lily wondered if she wasn't about to find out. He had that look of desire—the very one he'd had back in that empty classroom at the beginning of the year. Lily felt different under that particular gaze, like a woman rather than a girl. Right then—perhaps the last night they'd ever have at Hogwarts—he wanted her, and Lily wanted him right back.

"You look sexy as hell, do you know that?"

She felt his fingers ghost along her jaw and her eyes closed involuntarily. And when she forced them open as he wound his fingers into her hair, she found his face dangerously close to hers.

"I've been thinking about what you said over the holidays—about how you thought I'd put you under some sort of figurative spell."

She swallowed hard.

"You might not come back next year, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you didn't get this spell lifted, you know?"

Was he…? Oh Christ, he was… All those times they evaded this moment and those times she'd begged him for it…this was it. They'd reached the point of no return and it appeared that neither of them was looking back.

Lily leaned forward and James' lips met hers in one soft, hesitant kiss. It wasn't how she imagined their first kiss, not after her fantasies played out and she'd seen his kisses with other girls. This kiss was sweet and warm, even respectful. It didn't disappoint, but she wanted more.

"Did it break the spell?"

She recognized the fervor in his expression, the one she'd known he'd possessed for years. He'd been holding back, being such a gentleman because he thought that that's what she wanted—one brief kiss, a chance to see what it would be like to be with him.

"A kiss like that couldn't break shite," she whispered, begging him to kiss her properly with her eyes.

In one quick, fluid motion, James pressed her firmly into the wall before she had enough time to process it. His lips were on hers in an instant, supple and frantic, and Lily couldn't get enough of him. This was it—that unbridled passion that she knew him to possess.

His fingers carding through her hair, she bit down gently on his lip and sucked, effectively taking the kiss to another level. James slipped his hands down her sides, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts, around her hips and slipping low to her arse. She moaned into his mouth then, pressing into him until she could feel his every, glorious inch.

Gasping, she broke free of James' lips; she struggled to catch her breath, her breasts heaving against his toned chest. Lily looked into his beautiful eyes, and in that instant, tangled with him, she realized that she had made a grave mistake. Kissing James Potter hadn't broken that supposed enchantment, but it had certainly cast one over her.


	7. A Muggle Studies Outtake

**Title:** Hogsmeade. This Weekend. (Or, Muggle Studies: UST Outtake)  
**Warnings:** Please pardon the UST  
**Summary:** In which Lily wants him, James wants her, and nobody wants to make an overt move.  
**Author's Note:** Written in celebration of Lily's 51st birthday, and I'm just now getting around to posting it. This is an outtake from Chapter 6 of Muggle Studies. I've provided the snippet of the fic that inspired this piece in case you need to be refreshed. Thanks for the once-over, L.

* * *

_"When the final Hogsmeade weekend came around in May, James had offered to escort her. She'd declined, not feeling entirely up for it, and so he'd surprised her when he returned with a small bag full of sweets and chocolates from Honeydukes."_  
-Muggle Studies, Chapter 6

...

For what must be the seventh time in the past two minutes, Lily rereads the same line in her Advanced Charm Theory text: _The range of this charm is dependent upon three factors—the limit of the caster's natural magic reserve, Grimbarrow's Fourth Law of Web Theory, and Tyrbert's Seventh Principle_.

On any other day, Lily knows that she would be able to understand this, but as it stands, she can't remember which theory is which and what the Seventh Principle is founded upon. No, today has been all around rubbish, from the moment she overslept to the surprise quiz in Herbology. She's still got dirt under her nails from that, and to top things off, tomorrow is the trip to Hogsmeade.

Just as she reaches to close her book in defeat, she hears a soft knock on the door of her private study—one of the few perks of being a prefect. A sudden fear grips her, despite the fact that the hazing has lessened considerably after the incident in her dormitory, and she briefly considers pretending that she's not in here.

The door clicks open though, just a small crack. Lily's panic subsides. It's password protected and only a select few know.

"Lily?"

_James_. Lily nearly jumps to her feet, her heart beating just a little faster at the sound of his voice. She meets him at the door, opening it entirely for him.

"Sorry if I'm being a bother," he says, stepping into the room as she shuts the door. "Looks like you're busy. Advanced Charms?"

"Just finishing up, actually."

They look at each other for a long moment, both with small, awkward smiles on their lips. Lily wishes she could control the fluttering in her stomach, but struggles in vain. The fact that James is in his Quidditch kit does not help matters in the least, nor does his obscenely wind-swept hair. If Lily would have thought back in September that she would be this smitten with James Potter, she would have never believed it.

"How was practice?" she blurts out after what feels like forever, the silence-induced tension becoming impossible to bear.

"Fine, I guess. I still don't think we're a match for Hufflepuff, but…" James shrugs. "Sorry I had to come after practice. I probably smell like arse. I just, I wanted to make sure I caught you before you turned in for the night."

"Something wrong?"

James shakes his head. "Hogsmeade. This weekend. I know I've asked you a thousand times over, but I thought…" He pauses, and then seems more resolved, taking her hand. "Go with me?"

Lily looks into those pleading, hazel eyes, can see the apprehension there and just a small speck of hope. She aches with the knowledge that she's decided not to go, but is firm in her resolve. Things have been mad lately, and for all that she is a Gryffindor, Lily doesn't think she has the courage to leave the safety of her password protected dormitory or study room.

But she wants to go, more than anything. A date with James—how long had she spent imagining it after he had decided he wasn't going to ask her anymore? And a date could lead to so much more, so much more of all the things she's been thinking of lately. Kisses and hand-holding and snogging and conversation. Lily thinks briefly about whose heart is going to break more when she gives James her answer—hers or his?

She squeezes his hand. "I'm sorry."

His expression falls, hurt so terribly apparent. She wonders if he'd been working up the courage to ask her all day, and knowing James now like she does, it wouldn't surprise her. James takes a quick, deep breath and forces his face into its normal, light and arrogant look.

"Of course. Sorry, I…I shouldn't have asked."

"No!" She says loudly, surprising herself with her volume. "What I meant was I'm glad you did—ask. And I would go." Lily bites her lip. "I_want_ to go. With _you_. I just…_can't_."

It looks like James doesn't know what to say in reply, though he seems relieved enough to know that she didn't reject his offer because it was him asking. Lily, herself, can only think of repeating _Sorry_over and over again, but she thinks better of it. Instead, she takes two steps towards James, wrapping her arms around his neck. James holds her tightly to him, and it feels like he's never going to let her go.

It feels _wonderful_.

Her hands seek out the feel of his lean muscles under the thick material of his Quidditch jersey. One of his is subtly squeezing her curvy hip, the other lost in her mass of auburn hair. This is so much more than a hug; it's what they both want and won't let themselves have.

"Can I walk you back to the Tower?" he asks, and it's barely a whisper in her ear.

She thinks she feels him place a soft kiss at her temple, her knees trembling with the mere idea. Turning her head just so, she ghosts a kiss across his jaw before pulling back to look into his eyes.

"That'd be lovely."

* * *

**End Notes: **A big thank you to everyone who read Muggle Studies! I wrote this for a fic fest over at Livejournal, so it was never meant to be any longer than the 35,000 words it ended up being. Not to mention the fact that this whole fic was written over the course of a month. The good news is that this is not the end of the Muggle Studies 'verse, even if it is the end of this particular fic. One of my major projects in the coming months is to begin the sequel to Muggle Studies, and I have every intention of making it longer and chaptered. It won't be posted as additional chapters to this fic, so I would recommend adding me to your author alert list if you'd like to read the story of Lily and James' seventh year! In addition, you can find links to my other websites on my profile page, which I update more frequently. Thanks again! - Muse


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